/" 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

LIBRARY 


THE  WILMER  COLLECTION 

OF  CIVIL  WAR  NOVELS 

PRESENTED  BY 

RICHARD  H.  WILMER,  JR. 


/    ;    . 


XV.J. 


4«^ 


^.^ 


^^^ 


EENSHAWE. 


^  io»tI. 


BT 

THE  AUTHOR  OF   "MARY  BRANDEGEE." 


EDITED   BY 


CUYLER    PINE 


^. 


NEW  YORK: 


p.    J^.  pARLETON   &-    Co.,  PUBLISHERS, 


LoNDDN :  S.  Low,  Son  &  Co. 

MDCCCLXVU. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1867,  by 

GEORGE  W.  CAKLETON  &  CO., 

In  the  Clerk's  office  of  the  District  Court  of  the  United  States  for  the 

Southern  District  of  New  York. 


TO 


MY   FATHER 


603182 


PREFACE. 


Axioms  and  plain  principles  ought  to  be  repeated  once  at  least  in 
a  generation. 

In  each  man's  history  there  was  a  time  when  platitudes  were  novel- 
ties, and  our  weariness  of  them  leads  us  to  take  for  granted,  that  the 
rising  race  will  learn  what  is  not  taught. 

Some,  it  is  true,  manldnd  is  in  no  danger  of  forgetting,  but  there 
are  others,  which  the  force  of  circumstances  sweeps  very  far  out  of 
sight,  and  it  is  then  that  those  who  remember  them  should  come  to 
the  rescue.  One  of  these  truisms,  which  has  been  much  endangered 
lately,  in  this  country,  is  that  good  and  evil  are  confined  to  no  soci- 
ety, and  are  indigenous  to  no  soil. 

That  bad  men  have  fallen  in  a  good  cause  is  a  fact  which  its  devo- 
tees are  disposed  to  ignore,  and  that  good  men  have  suffered  in  a  bad 
cause,  they  are  stUl  less  willing  to  acknowledge. 

There  are  men  too  ready  to  pronounce  on  the  convictions,  princi- 
ples and  merit  of  others  wtom  they  have  never  even  seen,  and 
throughout  this  whole  country  there  are  also  many  who,  reasonable 
and  just  in  themselves,  have  been  unintentionally  swayed  by  the  mis- 
representations of  passion,  blind  to  what  it  does  not  wish  to  see,  to 
condemn  individuals  together  with  nations. 

Before  this  latter  class  I  lay  these  memoirs  of  my  sister.  If  in  any 
one  case  they  serve  as  a  reminder  of  the  simple  fact  which  aU  men 
who  dweU  in  peace  are  ready  to  acknowledge,  the  task  of  their  prepa- 
ration will  not  have  been  in  vain. 

OurLEE  Pine. 


EENSHA¥E. 
I. 

BLUE    HILLS. 


Netted  in  a  silver  mist 
Were  cottage  chimneys  smoking  from  the  woods, 
And  cattle  grazing  in  the  watered  vales.— Mrs.  BROWNina. 


CHAPTER    I. 

^^^HERE  was  no  railway  station  at  Blue  Hills,  and  I 
jn))  came  to  that  respectable  hamlet  by  stage  from  the 
^^  nearest  depot,  six  miles  distant.  As  it  was  the 
only  stage  that  ran  during  the  day,  I  was  a  little  surprised 
on  finding  no  one  to  meet  me  at  the  terminus  of  its  route, 
yet  nowise  daunted  by  this  circumstance,  after  discover- 
ing that  Mr.  Shaker's  house  was  within  a  mile,  I  set  out 
for  that  habitation,  leaving  my  baggage  at  the  stage- 
house.     This  was  principally  one  trunk. 

Darkness  overtook  me  on  the  way,  and  I  regretted  that 
I  had  not  availed  myself  of  the  stage  driver's  offer  to 
return  for  me  to  the  stage  house  after  some  other  errands 
had  been  disposed  of.  As  the  directions  given  me  had 
led  me  to  expect,  the  more  populous  features  of  the  vil- 
lage ceased  with  the  first  half  mile  of  my  walk. 


10  EENSHAWE. 

I  liad  been  charged  to  sto^D  at  the  thu'd  house  after 
passing  the  Hberty-pole;  but  as  three  roads  met  there, 
and  as  I  was  in  doubt  which  of  two  I  should  have  fol- 
lowed, I  paused  for  some  minutes  before  ventuiing  to 
enter,  when  I  had  reached  the  third  gateway.  A  wooden 
fence  shut  in  a  square  inclosure  about  one  acre  in  area,  in 
the  centre  of  which  the  house  stood  out  in  the  beams  of 
the  half  moon.  It  was  a  building  pictui'esque  in  orig- 
inal design,  all  angles  and  gables,  dormer  windows,  and 
tall  red  brick  chimneys,  but  old,  faded,  and  dingy,  and 
the  outhouses,  of  which  there  was  a  goodly  row,  pre- 
sented an  appearance  more  unmistakably  attributable  to 
neglect  of  repairs. 

There  was  nothing  cheering  in  a  nearer  view  of  the 
premises.  The  upper  \vindows  were  not  illuminated,  nor 
was  there  any  sign  of  life  visible  about  the  place,  except 
when  a  disabled  dog  crawled  out  of  a  crazy-looking 
kennel  to  whine  feebly  at  my  approach.  At  last,  detect- 
ing a  gleam  thi'ough  the  close  gloating  of  a  basement  win- 
dow, I  ventured  an  energetic  summons  with  the  knocker 
of  the  only  door  that  was  visible  on  the  front. 

"  Does  'Mx.  Shaker  live  here  ?"  I  asked,  half  expecting 
a  negative,  when  the  door  was  opened  by  a  stout,  hard- 
featured  woman,  about  middle  age,  enveloped  in  a  bonnet 
and  shawl. 

I  was  told  that  Mr.  Shaker  hved  there,  and  was  in- 
vited to  walk  in.     The  hall  was  commodious,  and  fiu'- 
nished   in    a   quaint,  old-fashioned   style  ;    a   huge   red 
clock  ticked  at  the  farther  end,  and  by  the  dim  light  I 
caught   the  outUne   of  several   pictures  in  very  ancient 
fi'ames  on  the  walls.     I,  lost  no  time  in  looking  round,      ^ 
however,    as   the  woman    who    had   admitted   me,    and     ^ 
who  proved  to  be  Mr.  Shaker's  housekeej^er,  informed  "Cli 
me,  to  my  gi'eat  concern,  that  IMi\  Shaker  hijiseK  had 
gone  away,  and  although  he  and  several  ladies  had  been 


BLUE  HILLS.  11 

expected,  that  though  in  fact  she  had  been  "looking 
for  them "  every  day,  I  was  the  first  of  the  party  to 
arrive.  His  orders  to  her  had  been  to  make  his  guests 
as  comfortable  as  possible  until  his  arrival. 

"  But  Mr.  Shaker's  niece — the  mistress,  is  at  home,  is 
she  not  ?"  I  asked,  dubiously. 

"  Miss  Launey,  that  is.     She  ain't  no  mistress." 

"And  who  is  the  mistress,  then?" 

Mrs.  Judson,  which  I  learned  was  the  housekeeper's 
name,  immediately  stated  that  there  was  no  mistress, 
only  as  far  as  she  served  for  one ;  for  that  matter  there 
was  no  master  either,  as  Mr.  Shaker  was  good  for 
nothing  but  to  sit  in  his  study  and  pore  over  books.  He 
had  invited  his  niece,  to  be  sure,  to  keep  the  ladies  com- 
pany, but  as  for  mistress.  Miss  Launey  didn't  know  the 
blue  China  tea-set  from  a  pair  of  tongs.  The  place  alto- 
gether had  been  going  to  rack  and  ruin  as  fast  as  it 
could,  and  except  that  she  had  driven  things  as  well  as 
she  could,  the  house  would  have  been  burnt  up  for  kin- 
dhng-wood. 

"  I  expected  to  find  Miss  Launey  here,  of  course,"  I 
said,  in  no  little  annoyance;  "I  hardly  know  what  to 
do." 

The  housekeeper,  vdth  a  look  directed  askance  from 
under  her  heavy  brows,  stated  she  saw  nothing  else  to 
be  done  but  to  make  myself  "  to  hum,"  and  she  would 
provide  my  supper.  She  alleged  that  during  Mr.  Sha- 
ker's absence,  she  merely  visited  the  premises  during 
the  day  to  attend  to  the  wants  of  the  man-servant,  and 
she  was  on  the  point  of  going  to  her  mother's  cot,  about 
three  miles  above  in  the  woods,  when  I  arrived.  As  Miss 
Launey  was  with  a  feeble  relative  at  Rocky  Cross,  she 
could  be  readily  notified  in  the  morning  that  Mr.  Sha- 
ker's guest  had  come;  but  she  did  not  think  Mr.  Shaker 
himself  would  return  very  soon,  as,  being  opposed  to  rail- 


12  EENSHAWE. 

roads,  on  the  ground  that  they  were  new-fashioned  and 
unsafe,  he  always  traveled  by  slow  stages  in  his  carriage. 

"  But  he  cannot  have  been  six  weeks  in  coming  from 
New  York,"  said  I. 

Mrs.  Judson  thought  it  likely.  In  any  village  where 
there  was  a  hbrary  or  a  bookstore  he  sometimes  stopped 
three  days  or  more, and  frequently  accomplished  only  five 
miles  a  day. 

Leaving  me  to  digest  this  announcement,  Mrs.  Judson 
prepared  a  hasty  supper,  and  dispatched  Mr.  Shaker's 
man  with  the  dog  to  the  station  for  my  luggage.  I  sug- 
gested that  she  should  send  him  also  to  her  mother's  cot- 
tage to  explain  ]\Irs.  Judson's  non-appearance,  but  the 
housekeeper  assured  me  that  her  mother  was  aware  that 
company  was  expected  at  !Mi\  Shaker's,  and  would  easily 
account  for  the  detention.  \  Besides  that  "  feller,"  as  she 
denominated  the  envoy,  was  so  slow  a  poke  that  he  would 
not  get  over  the  three  miles  till  suniise. 

The  event  seemed  fully  to  justify  Mrs.  Judson's  asser- 
tion; and  after  waitinor  till  midniorht  for  the  return  of  the 
messenger,  I  began  to  indulge  in  a  few  apprehensions 
regarding  his  safety. 

"  Times  is  so  unsettled  now,"  remarked  Mrs.  Judson 
in  reply  to  one  of  these  surmises,  and  there's  reely  so 
little  tellin'  what's  goin'  to  happen,  with  the  woods  all 
full  of  prowlin'  thieves  and  sich,  that  if  it  was  anybody 
else  'cept  Sing'lar  Twist,  (Sing'lar  Twist's  his  name,) 
who  went  out  and  staid  till  middle  of  the  night  I  shud 
feel  consarned.  But  I  know  Sing'lar — he'll  be  along  byme 
by.     ]Mr.  Shaker  likes  slow  folks." 

I  felt  less  sympathy  with  !Mr.  Shaker's  preference  in 
this  respect,  on  the  present  occasion,  than  might  have 
been  the  case  had  I  been  less  interested  in  Singular 
Twist's  expedition.  Before  one  in  the  morning  the  whine 
of  the  dog  announced  his  return,  and  the  creak  of  the 


BLUE   HILLS.  13 

wheelbarrow,  wliicli  was  taking  it  leisurely  up  to  the 
door,  gave  iiitimatiou  that  my  luggage  had  arrived.  But 
there  was  no  more  than  one  small  valise  and  a  band- 
box, Mr.  Twist  rei^orting  that  he  intended  going  back  for 
the  trunk,  which,  though  the  stage-office  was  locked,  had 
been  left,  by  his  urgent  entreaty,  outside  the  door. 

"And  ain't  you  ashamed,"  said  IMrs.  Judson,  in  a  tone 
of  severity,  "  to  be  five  hours  goin'  three-quarters  of  a 
mile  to  fetch  a  band-box! — and  tole  'em  to  leave  the 
trimk  out-doors  in  a  village !  Shockin' !  Go  back  as 
quick  as  you  can,  you  fool." 

"  'Spos'n  it's  got  stole,"  suggested  Singular. 

"  Then  you'll  hev  to  pay  for  the  vallyables,  no  sayin' 
how  much — may  take  all  you're  wuth." 

Singular's  ideas  seemed  roused  by  this  prospect,  and  he 
departed  with  greater  alacrity  than  he  had  come.  Mrs. 
Judson  bolted  the  doors  and  secured  the  windows,  assur- 
ing me  that  there  was  no  chance  of  Singular's  return 
before  the  time  she  was  usually  up.  Owing  to  the  late- 
ness of  our  vigil,  however,  we  overslept  in  the  morning, 
and  finding,  on  awaking,  that  the  sun  was  well  up  in  the 
sky,  I  hurried  to  dress  and  went  in  quest  of  the  house- 
keeper to  know  whether  there  were  any  tidings  of  Twist 
and  my  trunk.  ]VIi*s.  Judson  was  just  unbarring  the  win- 
dow, and  to  my  inquiries  she  replied  by  pointing  grimly 
to  the  lawn  where  Singular  lay  fast  asleep,  with  the  dog's 
nose  on  his  breast,  beside  the  empty  wheelbarrow. 

"  You  can  make  him  pay  for  every  stitch  thar  wus  in 
it,"  she  said  to  me  forcibly.  "  He's  got  piles  of  money 
in  Mr.  Shaker's  desk,  and  no  sayin'  how  much  in  the 
bank — been  hoardin'  it  up  for  twenty  years.  Reg'lar  mean, 
miserable  miser." 

As  Singular,  fast  in  the  embrace  of  Morpheus,  was 
totally  deaf  to  any  admonitions  fi'om  the  window,  Mrs., 
Judson  went  down  to  arouse  him  to  an  explanation.    Her 


14  RENSHAWE. 

efforts  were,  for  some  time,  unavailing.  At  last,  when 
Mrs.  Judson  had  repeatedly  shouted,  ""^Miar's  that 
trunk  ?"  and  Singular  had  replied  as  often,  "  AVeU,"  in 
the  di'owsiest  of  voices,  ]Mrs.  Judson  resorted  to  more 
energetic  measures.  Roused  to  consciousness  by  a  severe 
thump  on  the  shoulder  and  pull  on  the  collar.  Singular 
made  known,  rubbing  his  eyes  and  gaping  desperately, 
that  the  trunk  had  been  taken  by  mistake  in  the  six 
o'clock  stage  to  Rocky  Cross,  a  depot  ten  miles  distant, 
to  meet  the  nine  o'clock  train. 

"And  what  in  sense  was  you  doin?"  shouted  ]\Irs. 
Judson,  "to  be  till  six  o'olock  trundlin'  a  wheelbarry 
down  to  the  stage-house!  Wbar  wus  it  you  stopped? 
Come,  I  will  know." 

Singular  with  vehemence  protested  he  "  hadn't  stopped 
nowhar — nawthen  open  to  stop  at  ai-ter  twelve  o'clock. 
Thort  the  dog  was  tii-ed — felt  tired  himself — s'jDosed  he'd 
feU  asleep,  like  anybody  natterally  would  when  it  got  so 
nigb  mornin  !  ^Tien  he  got  to  the  station  the  stage  had 
gone  and  took  the  tmnk,  and  he  had  come  home  direct^ — 
not  having  stopped  at  all." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  cried  the  wrathful  Judson,  "  I  don't  doubt 
you  come  hum  on  a  trot.  You're  alius  a  shuttin'  the 
stable  door  arter  the  hoss  is  stolen.  Shed  hev  thort 
you'd  hev  known  enough,  Sing'lar, — that  stage  alius  is  a 
catcliin'  everything  that's  lyin'  round.  Now,  then,  you've 
jnst  got  to  get  out  the  long  wagin  and  go  up  to  Rocky 
Cross  arter  that  trunk,  do  you  hear  ?  Come,  Sing'lar,  go 
hunt  Gusty  and  harness  him  up.  Ef  you  can  catch  the 
nine  o'clock  train,  all  the  better." 

"Couldn't  ketch  a  train  nohow!"  said  Singular,  ap- 
palled. "  Can't  ketch  the  boss  without  help.  Gusty's  a 
di'efiul  onruly  critter, — bites  and  kicks." 

"  You'U  hev  that  hoss  harnessed,  Singlar,  or  I'll  know 
the  reason  why,"  said  !Mrs.  Judson — a  threat  that  was 


BLUE  nnxs. 


15 


not  witliout  its  effect  on  "  Sing'lar,"  who  ruefully  dragged 
himself  into  the  house,  and  up  to  the  third  story, 
to  see  what  lot  the  horse  was  in.  Mrs.  Judson,  in  the 
mean  time,  i^repared  breakfast,  harnessed  Gusty  to  the 
box-wagon,  while  Twist  made  his  meal,  and  urged  that 
individual,  in  spite  of  his  protestations,  to  unusual  brisk- 
ness. 

He  was  off  at  last,  armed  with  my  initials  on  a  card, 
and  a  charge  to  drive  rapidly.  Mrs.  Judson  and  I  break- 
fasted, after  his  departure,  in  the  so-called  "back  sitting- 
room,"  the  more  comfortable  and  commodious  apartment 
in  the  house,  exulting  in  two  neatly  painted  corner  clos- 
ets, a  newly  woven  rag  carpet  on  the  floor,  and  the  walls 
papered  smoothly.  The  furniture  was  covered  with  chintz, 
less  for  protection  than  ornament,  and  the  curtains 
matched  these  coverings  in  hue,  at  the  east  and  west 
windows  of  the  oblong  apartment.  The  hills,  from  which 
the  hamlet  took  its  name,  rose  in  full  view  from  the 
open  windows,  the  soft  clouds  floating  away  from  their 
summits  giving  promise  of  a  lovely  day.  Mrs.  Jud- 
son entertained  me  with  the  history  of  the  engravings 
that  adorned  the  walls,  as  well  as  of  a  few  clay  images  in 
keeping  with  the  statues  in  Mr.  Shaker's  study.  Her 
chief  pride,  however,  plainly  lay  in  the  set  of  deep-blue 
china  that  contrasted  with  the  damask  tablecloth. 

Just  as  we  had  finished  breakfast,  a  sound  of  wheels 
called  Mrs.  Judson's  attention  to  the  window. 

"Thar's  Sing'lar  Twist  comin'  back!  crawlin'  along  as 
usual.     He's  forgot  somethin'  of  coui'se." 

Nothing  had  been  forgotten,  as  was  manifest  when 
Singular  drove  deliberately  around  to  the  barn,  and  in 
the  course  of  time  was  found  to  be  releasing  Gusty  from 
the  traces. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?"  hallooed  Mrs.  Judson  from  the 
door. 


16  RENSHAWE. 

"Broke  dovra,"  announced  the  oracle. 

"Goodness!  he's  broke  do-wn!"  She  hied  directly  to 
the  stables,  and  I  followed  within  hearing  distance. 

"  What  wus  it,  Sing'lar  ?  Axle-tree  broke,  or  wheel  orf, 
or  what  ?" 

"  Bolt  come  out ! "  shouted  Twist. 

"  Bolt  ?  why  on  airth  didn't  you  screw  it  in,  an'  go  on 
agin  ?" 

"'Cause,  lost  it  out.  Ben  looken  for  it  aU  'long  the 
road  for  a  mile." 

"  Well,  hold  on,  Sing'lar,  take  the  wagin  to  the  black- 
smith's ;  get  him  to  make  a  new  bolt.  Come,  you  must 
git  to  Kocky  Cross  'fore  night." 

Singular  stood  some  time  mute,  with  the  harness  in 
his  hand.  Blacksmith  was  full,  he  thought,  but  anyhow 
he'd  run  "down  thar"  and  see  when  the  repaii'  could  be 
executed. 

"Kun!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Judson,  "never  done  sech  a 
thing  in  his  life.  I'm  afear'd  you  won't  see  yer  trunk  to- 
day, ]\Iiss  Renshawe,  at  this  rate." 

Singular  did  not  return  fi'om  the  blacksmith's  till 
broad  noon.  The  blacksmith  would  not  be  at  leisui'e  till 
ten  o'clock  at  night,  when  he  promised  to  come  up  and 
screw  in  the  bolt.  Mrs.  Judson  sent  Twist  next  to  one 
of  the  neighbors,  to  borrow  a  wagon  in  the  emergency. 

His  next  aj)pearance  was  about  thi'ee  in  the  afternoon, 
when  he  came  in,  sank  on  the  settle  hke  one  overcome 
with  exertion,  and  announced  that  there  were  only  "wo- 
men folks  "  at  Garniss's;  the  men  were  all  gone  away,  and 
the  wagon  house  was  locked. 

I  charged  Mrs.  Judson  to  defer  the  expedition  till  the 
morrow.  As  she  was  sm-e  that  the  trunk  was  safe  where 
it  was,  I  thought  it  better  to  await  the  blacksmith's  leis- 
ure, and  let  Singular  proceed  the  next  day  in  the  convey- 
ance that  belonged  to  ]Mr.  Shaker's  own  domicile. 


BLUE  HILLS.  17 

The  next  morning  Mrs.  Judson  had  Gusty  harnessed 
by  sunrise,  and  dispatched  Singular  on  his  journey. 

Shortly  after  breakfast  the  housekeeper  announced  to 
me  that  she  would  be  obliged  to  leave  for  a  few  hours,  to 
explain  the  present  state  of  affairs  to  her  mother,  and  to 
make  a  call  among  the  hills,  for  the  pui-pose  of  inquiring 
into  the  prolonged  absence  of  a  certain  Sally  Bunn,  who 
had  gone  to  see  her  sick  mother,  and  who  should  have 
been  home  the  previous  day. 

Not  Hking  to  be  left  alone  in  the  house,  I  offered  to 
accompany  Mrs.  Judson,  and  after  locking  up  the  house 
we  set  out  together. 

Everything  about  was  in  a  dead  calm,  the  sky  un- 
clouded, the  air  stiQ,  the  very  chirp  of  the  peepers  fi'om 
the  woods  sounding  lazily  on  the  ear.  The  hiUs,  which 
were  the  most  striking  feature  in  the  surrounding  scenery, 
rose  in  detached  and  irregular  piles  to  the  northward, 
the  road  winding  along  at  the  base.  They  extended  in 
this  direction  for  about  two  miles,  when  they  sank  into 
swells  and  undulating  surfaces,  covered  with  patches  of 
woods,  among  whose  budding  branches  a  smoking  chim- 
ney showed  here  and  there  a  habitation.  We  passed  a 
number  of  quiet  farm-houses,  where  the  signs  of  life  were 
almost  entirely  confined  to  the  chirp  of  a  chicken  soun- 
ing  from  the  board  fences,  and  the  track  of  the  ducks 
on  the  dirt  heaj)s  by  the  road.  For  the  last  mile  the 
road  pursued  its  way  without  any  protection  of  a  fence, 
through  stony  and  broken  gi'ound,  which,  Mrs.  Judson 
said,  it  was  not  thought  worth  while  to  cultivate.  A  sud- 
den turn  of  the  road  to  the  north,  brought  us  in  view  of 
her  mother's  cottage.  It  stood  at  the  junction  of  a  cross- 
road with  the  highway,  and  was  built  on  a  side  hill,  on 
the  top  of  which  its  western  half  was  sujoported;  the  other 
half  of  the  same  floor,  built  over  the  foundation  stones, 
inclosing   an   apartment  that  served   apparently  for   a 


18 


RENSHAWE. 


kitchen.  The  structure  fronted  on  the  south,  and  after 
following  the  windings  of  the  road  among  a  wilderness 
of  whortleberry  bushes  and  straggling  vines,  on  which 
the  sun  shone  with  the  intense  brightness  of  midsummer, 
we  came  near  enough  to  iDcrceive  several  horses  standing 
about  the  yard,  windows  open,  and  a  general  bustle,  in 
keeping  with  the  volumes  of  smoke  issuing  fi'om  the  one 
chimney. 

"I  wonder  what's  afoot  now  !"  exclaimed  my  compan- 
ion, and  she  pushed  her  way  directly  through  the  lower 
door,  I  following.  Unmistakable  signs  of  confusion  were 
apj)arent  there  ;  a  table  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  floor, 
on  which  several  hens  were  devouring  the  remains  of  a 
plentiful  feast,  clucking  sociably  among  themselves;  and 
through  the  open  milk-room  door  several  cats  were 
visible,  prowling  about  the  shelves.  Mrs.  Judson  hurried 
to  drive  them  out,  an  operation  involving  the  demohtion 
of  much  crockery,  and  the  downfall  of  a  pan  of  milk,  and 
I  just  had  time  to  announce  the  appearance  of  an  old 
woman  bringing  up  a  load  of  sticks  fi'om  the  well-path, 
when  two  men  ran  tumultuously  down  the  step  ladder 
communicating  with  the  upper  floor. 

The  youths — for  neither  could  have  been  more  than 
seventeen  or  eighteen  years  of  age — wore  the  dress  of 
the  New  York  Fii'e  Zouaves,  and  presented  faces  which 
it  needed  no  second  glance  to  discover  as  those  of  beings 
already  hardened  in  iniquity.  The  impression  was  con- 
firmed, when,  after  a  short  scrutiny,  they  walked  up  to 
me  with  the  request  that  I  would  unglove  and  show  my 
lings. 

I  at  once  comj^Hed,  and  made  it  clear  that  I  had  no 
rings  whatever,  while  Mrs.  Judson  expressed  her  opinion 
that  such  young  men  as  they  might  be  in  better  business, 
and  that  the  war  would  ruin  the  country.  In  the  mean 
time  my  watch  had  been  demanded,  and  seeing  no  alter- 


BLUE  HILLS. 


19 


native  but  submission,  I  quietly  detached  and  surren- 

Without  stopping  to  ask  for  our  purses,  the  abandoned 
wretches  were  out  of  the  door,  and  scampered  away  on  the 
northward  road  just  as  the  old  woman  made  her  entree 
into  the  kitchen.  She  was  fuU  of  trouble,  and  in  a  hur- 
ried, cracked  voice,  gave  us  a  complete  account  of  her 
trials.  She  had  been  toiling  and  cooking  for  five  men 
who  had  eaten  her  out  of  house  and  home,  brought 
horses  and  saddles,  and  it  was  all  she  could  do  to  prevent 
them  from  making  a  stable  of  the  kitchen. 

Mrs.  Judson  fully  sympathized  with  these  woes,  and 
after  a  long  condolence,  it  was  finaUy  settled  that  she 
should  proceed  to  Bunn's  cottage  alone,  as  it  was  in  the 
recesses  of  the  woods  below,  and  that  I  should  await 
Singular  Twist's  return  from  Eocky  Cross,  in  order  to 
ride  down  with  safety.  The  old  woman  thought  this 
much  the  better  plan.  None  of  the  "  swarrows,"  as  she 
denominated  the  Zouaves,  would  be  back  before  night, 
and  she  thought  I  would  be  safer  there  than  anywhere 
until  his  arrival. 

IVIrs.  Judson  had  just  moved  toward  the  gate,  and  I 
was  stiU  cherishing  a  half-formed  design  to  call  her  back, 
when  her  astonished  pause  brought  her  mother  and  my- 
seH  at  once  to  her  side.  A  vehicle  came  rattUng  down 
the  road,  surmounted  by  several  red  caps  scintiUatmg 

in  the  sunlight.  ■,.-,.1,1^ 

"Thar's  Sing'lar  Twist  a-comin'!"  exclaimed  the  old 
woman,  "and  good  hevings!  what  has  he  got  in  with 
him!— all  them  red  caps  and  shirts  a-comm'  back  agm. 

"I  don't  see  Sing'lar  nowhars,"  exclaimed  the  house- 
keeper.  "Hope  they  hevn't  i)itched  him  out,  nor  drown- 

ded  him."  '  ^  ^       xx. 

The  box-wagon,  in  the  mean  time,  drew  up  before  the 
gate.     It  contained  in  aU  only  four  individuals,  Singu- 


20  RENSHAWE. 

lar's  straw  hat  giving  tokens  of  bis  presence,  as  he  gradu- 
ally raised  himself  fi'om  the  bottom,  his  post  of  driver  hav- 
ing been  usur[3ed  by  another  of  the  party.  The  remain- 
ing three  were  men  whom  I  had  not  seen  before,  that  day 
at  least.  Two  sj^rang  out,  followed  by  Singular,  who  de- 
scended at  leisui'e,  the  diiver  still  remaining  on  the  seat. 
Then  all  came  to  a  dead  pause. 

"  Whar  hev  those  fellers  been  robbin'  this  mornin'," 
demanded  the  tallest  and  most  uncouth  specimen  of  the 
party. 

"  They've  done  one  piece  of  robbin'  here,"  proclaimed 
IVIrs.  Judson;  "  took  Mss  Eenshawe's  watch,  and  kerried 
it  orf." 

Pubhc  attention  thus  called  to  me,  the  Zouaves  asked 
at  once  for  a  description  of  the  watch,  and"  I  gave  it. 
They  looked  at  each  other,  made  some  allusions  to  the 
"thieving  de^-ils,"  and  declared  they  were  glad  to  be  rid 
of  them. 

"  They  stole  my  medal,  Tomlin,"  said  the  shorter  of 
these  two  Zouaves,  tiu'ning  towards  the  third  individual, 
who  lounged  on  the  seat  of  the  box-wagon. 

"  Yes,"  struck  in  the  first  questioner,  "  they  stole  his 
medal  from  he,  and  a  bit  of  a  red  string  that  was  round 
my  neck.     You  seed  'em  with  it,  'Lisha,  didn't  you  ?" 

"  I  seed  it  and  more  too,"  Ehsha  responded.  "A  man 
didn't  dare  to  call  his  soul  his  own,  for  fear  they'd  snatch 
it." 

"  And  his  tobaccy-box,"  rejoined  his  comrade,  whose 
name,  I  shortly  learned,  was  Alancen.  "  The  thievinest 
rascals !" 

In  the  meantime  I  had  been  scrutinizing  that  member 
of  the  party  who  still  tenanted  the  box-wagon,  and  who 
had  been  addi'essed  as  Tomlin.  There  was  nothing  in 
his  habihments  by  which  I  could  have  judged  him  to  be  a 
member  of  any  New  York  regiment,  or  indeed  a  soldier 


BLUE   HILLS.  21 

at  all.  Kis  liair  was  not  cut  according  to  to  the  mili- 
tarj^  fashion,  as  some  dark-brown  locks  clustered  about  his 
jaunty  cap.  He  wore  a  dark-blue  flannel  shirt,  dingy- 
black  2^antaloons,  tucked  into  a  pair  of  calf-skin  boots, 
and  in  the  broad  leather  belt  encircHng  his  waist  were  a 
bowie-knife  and  pair  of  pistols.  A  reckless  expression 
characterized  his  upward  glance,  but  otherwise  his  face 
was  not  unprepossessing,  yet  I  was  further  mystified 
when,  after  close  attention  to  the  evidence,  he  drew  my 
watch  from  his  side  pocket,  looked  at  it  inside  and  out, 
and  looked  around  at  me.  I  moved  forward,  but  the 
Zouave,  Alancen,  blocked  the  gateway. 

"  Stand  aside,  'Lance,"  said  Tomlin,  "  and  let  the " 

Here  his  eye  ran  over  my  characteristic  outer  woman, 
"  lady  pass." 

Alancen  moved  away,  and  I  identified  and  received  my 
own  property,  congratulating  myself  on  my  good  fortune, 
and  expressing  my  sense  of  indebtedness  to  Mr.  Tomlin. 
In  the  meantime  Singular  Twist  and  Mrs.  Judson  were 
discussing  Kocky  Cross.  I  had  heard  the  housekeeper 
demanding,  "  Whar's  that  trunk  ?"  and  Singular's  pro- 
longed hemming  and  hawing  before  Tomlin  called  off  my 
attention;  but  the  courtesies  between  us  were  but  just 
exchanged  as  Singular  entered  upon  his  narrative.  Eocky 
Cross  was  full  of  soldiers,  and  he  didn't  dare  to  go  any- 
where near  it,  that  was  a  fact.  He  could  not  tell  whether 
they  were  few  or  many,  whether  they  were  United  States 
soldiers,  or  rebels,  whether  their  uniforms  were  black  or 
white.  He  had  not  seen  them,  but  had  been  informed 
by  people  in  the  vicinity,  who  had  warned  him  to  go  no 
nearer  lest  he  might  not  get  away. 

INIrs.  Judson,  httle  affected  by  this  news,  charged  Sin- 
gular to  take  Miss  Eenshawe  home  directly  in  the 
wagon,  while  she  went  across  to  Mrs.  Bunn's.  The  rest 
of  the  company  were  housed  already  in  the  cottage,  and 


22  KENSHAWE. 

a  wrangling  conversation  about  the  dinner  ensued  be- 
tween the  Zouaves  and  the  old  woman,  while  I  took  my 
place  in  the  box  wagon,  waiting  anxiously  for  Singular, 
who,  ha"\ang  once  gone  in,  I  might  have  expected  would 
not  reappear  very  soon. 

^Tien  my  patience  was  nearly  worn  out,  "  'Lance  " 
brought  out  a  message  that  Singular  did  not  feel  well, 
and  wanted  to  know  whether  I  very  much  minded  waiting 
until  he  had  been  strengthened  by  something  to  eat. 

I  entered  the  cottage  at  once  to  charge  Singular  with 
my  haste  to  be  home,  but  I  found  Twist  obstinate.  He 
was  powerful  hungiy — had  ridden  pretty  near  all  the 
way  to  Rocky  Cross,  been  nearly  scared  to  death  by  bad 
news,  and  the  three  passengers  he  had  taken  in  had 
really  driven  Gusty  on  a  regular  trot  for  a  mile.  Gusty 
would  di'op  before  we  got  home,  if  he  started  off  again 
now — horse  was  spavined  in  the  left  hind  leg,  and  had 
the  heaves  evei-y  winter  till  grass  came. 

"I  will  walk  down,  Singular,  in  that  case,"  I  said, 
severely. 

Singular,  quite  unmoved,  rejoined,  "  Wall,"  and  turned 
serenely  to  the  table.  Tomlin,  who  had  overheard  the 
discourse,  interposed  directly.  "Very  unsafe,"  he  pro- 
nounced, "  for  any  one,  especially  an  unprotected  female, 
to  walk  alone  so  far  as  Blue  Hills.  The  young  lady  had 
better  wait  till  after  dinner,  and  ride  down  in  the  box- 
wagon." 

Submission  still  appearing  to  be  my  forte,  I  sat  down 
by  the  cooking-stove  while  the  two  Zouaves  and  Singular 
discussed  their  dinner.  In  the  meantime  IVIr.  Tomlin 
brought  a  chau'  and  sat  down  by  me,  talking,  in  a  very 
encouraging  strain,  though  sometimes  I  fancied  rather 
too  free  in  expressing  his  curiosity  about  matters  that  did 
not  concern  him. 

The  Zouaves  made  a  long  meal  of  it,  a  delay  which  my 


BLUE   HILLS.  23 

impatience  could  ill  bear;  but  Singular  loitered  over  tbe 
table  long  after  they  had  left  it.  Toinlin's  conversation 
with  me  had  come  to  an  end,  and  I  had  been  sitting 
watching  Singular  with  growing  indignation.  "When  I 
perceived  that  IVIrs.  Judson  had  been  gone  an  hour  and 
a  half,  I  was  moved  to  tell  Twist  of  the  wrath  his  conduct 
inspired. 

"  Got  all  day  to  go  hum,"  said  he,  coolly.  Seeing  that 
it  did  not  avail  to  be  angry,  I  grew  more  composed,  but  it 
was  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon  before  Twist  had  fairly 
finished  his  second  pipe,  and  took  up  his  straw  hat,  which 
was  not  bent  straight  under  five  minutes. 

A  halloo  at  the  gate  brought  us  to  the  door.  There 
was  a  young  man  there  on  horseback  with  news  from 
Blue  Hills.  A  regiment  of  soldiers  had  come  in,  were  to 
be  quartered  around  at  the  different  houses, — rebels  of 
the  blackest  dye, — had  pulled  down  three  flags  in  the  vil- 
lage, one  off  the  church,  one  off  the  town-house,  and  one 
off  the  store,  and  had  put  up  three  rebel  flags  in  their 
place.  Blue  Hills  was,  on  the  whole,  loyal,  at  least  out- 
wardly, and  the  event  had  caused  much  commotion.  The 
messenger  had  been  asked  to  inquire  what  had  become  of 
Singular  Twist  and  the  lady  under  his  charge;  Mrs.  Jud- 
son was  afraid  some  accident  had  taken  place. 

"WTiile  I  stood  at  the  gate  waiting  for  Singular,  who  had 
gone  back  for  his  hat,  Tomlin  came  up  to  me  to  inquire 
what  means  of  defence  I  had  in  case  the  troop  in  ques- 
tion were  to  offer  any  injury  to  the  house,  or  proceed  in 
the  usual  summary  method  with  the  stock  and  provisions 
of  the  place.  I  answered  that  the  house  was  not  suscep- 
tible of  fortification,  and  I  doubted  if  there  were  even  an 
old  musket  to  be  found  there. 

Tomlin  replied  that  defences  of  that  sort  he  was  aware 
would  be  ineftectual  enough ;  he  was  about  to  offer  me  a 
paper  signed  by  an   official  whose  name  would  carry 


24  RENSHAWE. 

weight     with     those     Southern     officers     who     recog- 
nized it. 

I  said  immediately  that  I  would  be  very  thankful  to 
receive  any  such  safeguard,  and  Tomlin  took  from  his 
jDOcketbook  a  printed  form  with  a  signatui'e. 

"^Tiat's  the  name?" 

"Allan  Shaker,"  I  answered.  Tomlin  filled  in  two' 
spaces,  and  handed  the  document  to  me.  It  was  an  in- 
junction to  the  Confederate  soldiers  to  refi-ain  from 
molesting  the  property  of  Allan  Shaker  at  Blue  Hills, 
and  was  signed  "  Killian  G.  Chives." 

"  That's  the  last  one  I  have,"  he  said,  "  I  have  made 
them  do  some  little  good  about  the  country,  especially 
among  the  absolutely  defenceless." 

I  thanked  the  author  of  these  acts  of  philanthropy, 
half  inclined  to  look  upon  him  as  another  Don  Quixote. 
Singular  at  last  emerged  with  his  hat,  and  said  he 
would  untie  Gusty,  and  tate  me  home. 

"For  another  word  of  caution,"  said  Tomhn,  as  Twist 
paused  to  fill  his  pipe  again  from  Alancen's  tobacco-box, 
"  if  there  is  any  sort  of  liquor  in  youi'  cellar,  di'aw  the 
taps  and  let  it  run  off.  It  would  be  gone  before  night  in 
some  way;  and  if  the  soldiers  get  hold  of  it,  as  they  will, 
you'll  find  the  premises  noisy  till  morning." 

"It  would  be  gone  before  night  in  some  way,"  chimed 
in  one  of  the  two  Zouaves,  whose  attention  had  been 
caught  by  the  last  observation,  "  so  you  might  as  well 
roll  it  off  in  the  woods,  and  let  us  take  care  of  it." 

Tomlin  now  took  Singular  aside  for  a  moment,  while 
the  old  woman  engaged  me  in  a  parting  message  to  ^Irs. 
Judson.  We  were  off,  not  without  some  difficulty.  Sin- 
gular being  so  irresistibly  di'awn  towards  Tomhn,  who 
had  just  made  him  the  happy  owne'r  of  a  gold-piece,  that 
it  seemed  a  matter  of  life  and  death  to  get  him  away. 
His  last  words,  several  times  repeated,  were,  "I'U  do  it, 


BLUE   HILLS.  25 

my  dear  sir — depend  on  me — I'll  be  thar — get  up,  Gus- 
ty," and  at  last  we  di'ove  away. 

For  the  three  miles  of  our  journey,  the  conversation, 
which  was  by  no  means  brisk,  (Singular's  ideas  being 
quite  as  slow  as  his  motions,)  was  divided  between  his 
fear  of  going  home  and  my  haste  to  get  there.  The 
slightest  disj)osition  on  Gusty's  part  to  go  at  a  tolerable 
pace  was  immediately  checked  by  Twist,  who  alleged 
that  the  horse,  having  already  traveled  ten  miles  in  two 
houi'S  and  a  half,  and  one  mile  on  a  trot  was  almost  done 
over  for  the  day.  It  was  only  when  the  appearance  of 
a  red  shirt  in  a  neighboring  field  aroused  my  alarm  at  the 
remembrance  of  my  morning's  adventure,  that  I  took  the 
reins  myself,  and  suffered  the  horse  to  follow  his  own  in- 
clinations, by  which  movement  our  entrance  into  the  vil- 
lage was  effected  with  comparative  speed. 


CHAPTER  II. 


)RS.  JTJDSON  was  just  getting  tea  in  the  sitting- 
room  when  I  returned,  while   a  stout  young 
damsel,  who  answered  to  the  name  of  Sally,  flew 
around  in  obedience  to  her  energetic  orders. 

"  Light  up,  Sally,  don't  you  see  how  dark  it's  gettin'  ?" 
said  the  matron,  while  Sally  ran  for  matches.  "  Oh, 
there's  Miss  Renshawe.  I'm  glad  you've  got  back.  I 
heered  you  wus  a-comin'  with  Sing'lar  more'n  an  hour 
ago.  IVIr.  Shaker's  back — come  hum  this  arternoon  with 
his  books — onpilin'  'em  up  stairs." 

"Mr.  Shaker!  how  fortunate  !"     As  I  was  leaving  the 
room  I  was  stopped  by  some   drapery   over   a   chair. 
"What's  this,  Mrs.  Judson?" 
Mrs.  Judson  seemed  embarrassed  by  the  query:  "  Sally 


26  KENSHAWE. 

and  I  wus  makin'  a  flag.  As  'Mx.  Shaker's  old,  and  Sing- 
ular's no  pertection,  I  thort  there'd  be  no  hurt  in  hevin' 
this." 

"This  is  a  strange  flag,"  I  remarked,  as  I  gazed  at 
the  unfamiliar  combination  of  colors.  "  Did  ]Mr.  Shaker 
■wish  it  made  ?" 

But  the  housekeeper  banished  the  emblem  to  the  closet, 
and  changed  the  subject.  I  found  ]Mi'.  Shaker  in  his 
library,  and  after  the  gi'eetings,  which  were  warm  on 
both  sides,  I  hastened  to  speak  of  the  danger  which 
menaced  the  village.  Strangely  enough,  ]Mr.  Shaker 
seemed  little  affected  by  it.  I  was  forced  to  hold  up  the 
most  alai-ming  picture. 

"My  dear  sir,"  I  exclaimed,  "if  they  buiTi  down  your 
house,  youi'  hbrary  will  be  destroyed,  and  you  rendered 
helpless." 

"They  won't  destroy  my  Hbrary,  child,  or  bum  my 
house,"  said  ^Ir.  Shaker,  indifferently.  "  It's  against  the 
law  to  bui'n  down  houses, — they  would  be  hung  for  arson, 
every  one  of  them." 

"  But  what  law  is  regarded  by  soldiers  ?" 

"  I  am  older  than  you,"  replied  31r.  Shaker,  compos- 
edly, ranging  a  set  of  Cicero's  comj)lete  works  on  the 
shelves,  "  and  I  am  mistaken  if  there  be  not  some  law 
among  us  yet.  However,  if  you  think  it  advisable,  I'll 
walk  dowTi  to  the  village  and  make  some  inquii'y  into 
what  is  going  forward." 

Arrayed  in  great-coat  and  hat,  Mr.  Shaker  saUied  forth. 

Mrs.  Judson  looked  after  him  dubiously,  and  Singu- 
lar followed  him  to  the  gate  with  a  rusty  old  musket, 
which  he  refused  to  take.  As  whatever  unpleasant  dem- 
onstrations that  had  been  expected  were,  to  all  appear- 
ances, delayed,  the  housekeeper  grew  calmer  in  soul,  and 
less  tacitui-n  as  her  fears  wore  off. 

The  sun  had  not  loner  been  down  before  the  house- 


BLUE   HILSS.  27 

keeper  came  flying  to  my  door  with  news.  Mr.  Shaker 
had  come  back-the  regiment  had  proved  to  be  nothmg 
h^rger  than  a  company,  and  Mr.  Shaker  hadbroiight  eight 
of  the  soldiers  to  stay  aU  night  at  his  house.  Moreover 
two  officers  were  to  take  tea  with  Mr.  Shaker,  and  he  had 
sent  up  to  desire  my  presence  at  the  table. 

"Two  splendid  gentlemen  1"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  with 
enthusiasm,  "  and  one  of  'em's  so  tall  he  stooped  down 
comin'  in  the  door.  I've  only  seen  their  backs  yet-i 
was  fetchin'  wood  when  they  come." 

«  Then  how  do  you  know  they  are  so  splendid  ?    said  i, 

^^''Sdn't  swear  to  it,  but  Mr.  Shaker  was  fetchin'  'em 
along  as  if  he  thort  somethen  of  'em." 

Soon  after.  Mi'.  Shaker  came  up  to  set  my  mmd  at 
ease  about  the  late  arrivals.  They  were  not  rebels  at  all 
—Northern  men— death  on  rebellion  and  treason.  iHe 
fla^s  on  church  and  store  had  come  down  by  the  hand  of 
sexton  and  store-keeper,  and  had  been  lately  restored, 
The  captain  and  second  liftutenant  were  Mr.  Shakers 
miests  for  the  night.  .     .     »    .       ^ 

"  Are  they  intelligent  men,  sir  ?"  I  inquired-"  educat- 
ed*?" 

Mr.  Shaker  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "No-the  Heu- 
tenant  is  an  ItaUan,  and  has  gone  at  the  melodeon,-the 
other  feUow— weU,  he  might  pass  among  Yankees. 

As  "Yankees"  were  a  people  whom  Mr.  Shaker  held 
in  special  contempt,  I  could  not  hope  much  from  his 
classification.  I  was,  however,  not  altogether  prepared, 
on  my  descent  to  the  sitting-room,  for  so  unmistakable  a 
reminder  of  New  England  lower  life  as  was  presented  m 
a  taU,  lank,  awkward  specimen  of  humanity,  with  very 
nasal  utterance,  fiery  red  hair,  and  pointed  beard,  exult- 
ing in  the  title  of  captain,  and  the  prepossessing  name 
of  Good.   Sure  that  I  should  discover  about  him  nothing 


530  KENSHAWE. 

better  than  his  name,  I  turned  to  the  Hentenant.  His 
dark,  plaintive  face  was  more  prepossessing,  uVIi".  Shaker 
introduced  him  as  Lieutenant  Gallorda. 

After  tea,  Mr.  Shaker  so  entirely  preferred  the  conver- 
sation of  the  junior  officer,  who  certainly  spoke  Enghsh 
much  better  and  more  modestly  than  the  captain,  that 
the  latter  drew  off  by  the  table,  where  he  devoted  him- 
self to  a  little  di'ill-book,  much  to  my  rehef,  for  I  had 
been  annoyed  by  the  necessity  of  appearing  at  all,  and 
was  only  anxious  for  the  evening  to  close. 

It  was  about  nine  o'clock  when  Singular  Twist,  appear- 
ing at  the  door,  asked  to  speak  to  me.  Glad  to  get  out, 
I  was  in  the  hall  directly. 

"Miss  Renshawe,"  said  he,  "them  two  lank-lookin', 
red-shu'ted  fellers  that  rid  with  us  to-day,  are  down  to 
the  lower  eend  of  the  garden,  and  wants  to  sjDeak  to  you. 
They  called  one  'nother  'Lishe  and  'Lance — said  they 
wus  in  a  terrible  hurry." 

"But  how  did  they  make  you  hear  without  alarming 
the  sentinel  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  Cause  I  was  on  the  lookout.  T'other  feller,  Tomlin, 
said  he  was  a-comin'.  But  he  sent  one  of  these  fellers  an 
hour  ago,  and  he  went  cunjerin'  up  in  the  henroost  arter 
eggs,  an'  the  hens  all  flow'd  out  over  his  head,  and  the 
sent'nel  hollered,  and  they  chased  him  to  the  woods. . 
Now  they've  both  come — down  at  the  nor'west  corner  of 
the  garden,  back  of  the  quince  bushes; — want  to  see  you 
partic'larly." 

"  Did  they  give  you  no  idea  of  their  errand  ?" 

"  Nawthin'  but  both  on  'em  dead  arter  the  cider-barreL 
Tall  un's  got  the  most  looney-lookin'  eye  I  ever  seed. 
Still,  mebbe  they  hev  got  somethin'  to  say  ye  ought  to 
hear.  If  'tain't  nawthin'  wuth  hearin'  you  can  cum  back 
agin." 

"  Where  are  the  soldiers  ?" 


BLUE   HILLS.  29 

"  Supper,  all  on  'em.  I  ken  come  along,  ef  you  want 
me  to." 

"Of  course  I  want  you  to  come  along,"  I  answered, 
"  and  be  quick,  for  I  shall  not  tarry  there  long."  I 
wrapped  my  shawl  about  my  shoulders,  passed  out  of 
the  house  and  hied  to  the  quince  bushes.  Twist  following 
at  a  slow  gait  and  a  respectful  distance.  I  was  met  at 
the  fence,  as  I  had  anticipated,  by  the  two  zouaves, 
whose  sheathless  bowie-knives  and  ghttering  caps  the 
faint  rays  of  moonlight  made  visible.  Elisha  was  the 
fii'st  to  speak. 

"  Tomlin  told  us  to  come  down  and  find  out,"  he  said, 
*'  how  every- thin'  was  sitooated  round  these  quarters, 
he  said  the  stoopid  would  meet  us,  but  to  send  for  you, 
for  you'd  be  likely  to  know  the  most  information.  Wasn't 
that  it,  'Lance?" 

"  About  so  as  nigh  as  I  ken  recollect,"  said  'Lance. 
"  Wliat  sort  is  it  you've  got  here  ?" 

"  What  am  I  to  understand  you  wish  to  ask."  I  in- 
quired. ''  That  is,  what  has  Mr.  Tomlin  sent  you  to  find 
out  ?  " 

"  He  told  us  to  find  out  all  we  could,  and  wants  to 
know  how  many  they  be,  and  who  they  be,  and  who's  the 
Colonel,  and  whar  they  come  from,  and  whar  they're 
goin'  to,  and  two  or  three  thousand  things  more." 

"  Fust  of  all,"  interposed  the  other  zouave,  "  tell  us  if 
you  tuk  the  taps  out  of  yer  barrels." 

After  a  moment's  consideration  I  said  that  the  care  of 
that  had  been  left  entii-ely  to  Singular. 

"  Well,  we  asked  the  stoopid,  and  he  didn't  know  noth- 
ini?  about  it,"  said  the  first  zouave. 

"  So  we  kin  kinclude  that  the  stops  are  in  the  barrels," 
added  the  other. 

"  How  are  you  to  take  back  so  much  information  to 
Mr.  Tomlin  ?"  said  I.    "  You  would  be  sure  to  forget  some- 


30  RENSHAWE. 

thing.  If  you  had  a  pencil  and  paper  you  might  make 
notes  of  what  I  tell  you." 

"I  can't  write  a  stroke,"  said  Alancen,  lugubriously. 

"  You  might  carry  a  note/'  I  suggested. 

But  the  ideas  of  both  ambassadors  were  evidently  more 
on  the  ban-els  than  the  news.  "Ef  you  could  only  smug- 
gle us  round  to  the  cellar,  and  give  us  a  drink,"  said 
Alancen,  "it  would  be  doin'  us  both  sich  a  kind- 
ness." 

"I  think,"  said  I,  "that  the  farther  I  keep  you  from 
the  cellar  the  greater  kindness  it  would  be  to  both." 

"IMiss  Shaker,"  returned  Alancen,  "it's  not  in  myna- 
tur  nor  the  natur  of  he  to  be  tellin'  folks  what  we've  done 
for  'em,  and  ladies  especially,  but  I  must  say  that  this  is 
an  ungTateful  world.  You  do  it  benefits  and  it  stings  like 
a  viper  in  its  bosom.  I  don't  know  how  much  that  ere 
watch  was  wuth  that  we  took  out  of  the  exact  jaws  of 
death  this  mornin,'  but  ef  it  hadn't  been  wuth  pickin'  up, 
it  couldn't  hev  been  forgotten  sooner,  and  the  sarcum- 
stances  and  so  on.  We  wouldn't  git  tipsy  to-night,  not 
on  no  consideration,  for  Tomlin  wants  to  hear  about 
these  ere  sojers,  an'  he  swore  ef  we  didn't  come  back  sober 
he'd  take  our  heads  off.  So  you  see  thar  wouldn't  any- 
body know  it,  and  if  we  come  to-morrer  the  sperrits 
will  be  all  gone,  for  I've  seen  that  ar  woman  run  down 
five  times  into  the  cellar  with  a  pitcher  ever  since  I've 
been  here,  and  that  isn't  more'n  half  an  hour." 

"  No  matter,"  said  Elisha,  "  we  can  get  a  httle  su'thin' 
in  the  village,  and  mabbe  it'll  be  better  than  there  is 
here.  You  ort  not  to  bother  so,  'Lance.  Tell  us  what 
crowd  it  is  here,  ma'am  and  we'll  be  off." 

But  for  two  reasons  I  hesitated.  In  the  first  place,  the 
charge  of  ingi'atitude  was  not  without  its  effect — in  the 
second  place,  Alancen's  mention  of  Tomlin's  anxiety  led 
me  to  pause  in  the  consideration  whether  I  would  not 


BLUE   HILLS.  31 

be  guilty  of  imprudence  in  sending  any  information  to 
a  total  stranger,  of  whom  I  knew  nothing  beyond  that  a 
paper  signed  by  Killian  G.  Chives  had  been  in  his  pocket. 
I  therefore  invited  the  two  zouaves  to  come  in,  assuring 
them  that  the  beverage  they  coveted  would  be  in  the 
supper-room,  and  as  the  house  was  occupied  by  Union 
soldiers  they  would  be  safe.  But  no.  The  Union  soldiers 
might  bother  them  with  questions,  or  ask  to  see  their 
passes,  in  which  case  I  judged  they  would  be  in  an  awk- 
ward predicament ;  altogether  they  preferred  the  ceUar 
to  the  supper-room.  I  bade  them,  therefore,  follow  me 
to  the  kitchen,  where  Mrs.  Judson  recognized  them  with 
a  very  black  look. 

After  some  parley  they  prevailed  upon  her  to  light 
them  to  the  cellar,  reminding  her  how  they  had  rescued 
"Miss  Shaker's"  watch  from  the  grasp  of  thieves;  how 
they  were  Union  soldiers,  and  how  the  cider  was  fast 
vanishing;  there  would  soon  be  none  left.  Mrs.  Judson 
appealed  to  me,  and  found  that  I  feared  disturbance  and 
bloodshed  and  thought  the  zouaves  would  not  go  without 
the  cider. 

The  housekeeper  piloted  them  to  the  cellar,  where  they 
staid  for  some  time.  On  coming  up  she  whispered  me 
that  they  had  taken  two  or  three  bottles  of  wine  in  their 
pockets,  and  she  had  thought  they  would  stay  in  the  cellar 
all  night.  How  they  eluded  the  fresh  sentinel,  as  the  guard 
was  just  reHeved,  we  did  not  care  to  investigate,  only 
anxious  to  get  them  out  of  the  house. 


32  KENSHAWE. 


CHAPTER  in. 


(>^^Y  eleven  o'clock  the  house  was  comparatively 
still.  Officers  and  men  had  sought  repose,  with 
the  exception  of  the  sentinel  stationed  at  the 
garden  paling,  where  his  languid  tread  sounded  with 
monotonous  regularity  on  the  path.  It  was  a  beautiful 
moonhght  night,  and  rendered  wakeful  by  the  excite- 
ment of  the  day,  I  seated  myself  at  the  open  window 
to  gaze  out  at  the  neglected  garden  plants,  fenced  off 
from  the  straggling  trees  by  a  dilapidated  rail  fence,  half 
lost  among  the  row  of  spreading  hlac  and  stunted  quince 
trees. 

I  had  been  for  some  time  watching  the  moving  shadows 
of  the  trees  and  the  scant  clouds  in  the  heavens,  while 
the  various  sounds  fi'om  the  village,  rendered  indistinct 
in  the  distance,  fell  on  my  ear,  when  my  attention  was 
caught  by  the  flash  of  a  scarlet  cap  as  it  waved  in  the 
moonlight,  directly  behind  the  quince  bushes.  For  some 
time  this  remained  the  only  sign  of  hfe  in  that  vicinity, 
until  I  perceived  a  figure  moving  up  the  path,  from  whose 
stooping  shoulders,  dehberate  gait,  and  occasional  full 
stop  and  stare,  I  saw  that  Singular  Twist  was  approach- 
ing. The  sentinel  challenged  him.  Twist,  pausing  only 
to  supply  himself  vrith  a  fi'esh  tobacco  chew,  rej)hed  com- 
prehensively, "  it's  me,"  and  after  offering  his  box  to  the 
soldier,  entered  the  house.  The  sentinel  walked  leisurely 
up  and  down  for  a  few  turns,  then  took  his  seat  on  a 
stone  at  the  eastern  tui'ning  point,  and  rested  his  fore- 
head on  his  gun,  "SN-ith  a  low  sigh  of  weariness.  I  had 
but  just  observed  this  movement,  when  a  cautious  rap 
summoned  me  to  the  door. 

Singular  was  without;  he  announced  that  "thar  was 
a  feller  down  at  the  quince  bushes." 


BLUE  HILLS.  33 

"  Does  he  wish  to  see  me  ?"  I  inquired,  beginning  to 
comprehend  that  a  recurrence  of  these  nocturnal  sum- 
mons might  prove  rather  a  nuisance  than  an  advantage. 

"Wants  to  see  you  powerful." 

I  asked  whether  it  were  one  of  the  two  previous  mes- 
sengers, or  a  stranger.  Singular,  however,  had  his  in- 
structions.    Really  it  had  been  too  dark  to  see. 

I  told  Singular  he  need  not  follow,  as  Mrs.  Judson  was 
still  below  stairs  employed  with  her  extra  work.  A  light 
in  the  officers'  room,  as  I  passed  it,  and  voices  within,  ap- 
prised me  that  they  had  not  yet  gone  to  rest.  I  passed 
the  door  quietly  and  sought  IVIrs.  Judson.  We  issued 
together  into  the  moonht  yard,  and,  passing  the  sentinel, 
who  looked  round  and  said  nothing,  hastened  down  the 
garden  walk.  I  never  found  any  sentinel  since  so  for- 
bearing, and  mention  his  conduct  with  consideration.  I 
entered  the  shade  of  the  quince  trees  with  a  beating 
heart.  Mrs.  Judson  had  stopped  at  a  nest  of  Singular's 
tools,  scattered  about  the  proposed  onion  bed,  and  began 
gathering  them  up  wdth  some  muttered  animadversions 
against  that  individual.  Heedless  of  these,  I  approached 
the  rude  fence  and  leaned  over  the  rails.  One  human 
figure  started  up,  indiscernible  in  the  darkness,  till  he 
moved,  and  while  I  was  resolving  his  identity,  first  into 
the  zouave  Elisha,  and  then  into  his  more  brusque  com- 
panion, I  was  confronted  by  the  slender  form  and  clearly 
cut  features  of  Tomlin  himself. 

"  As  a  proof  of  how  deeply  I  appreciate  your  pohteness 
in  coming,"  said  he,  "I  shall  detain  you  only  so  long  as 
you  can  tell  me  what  troop  it  is  here,  and  whither  they 
are  bound." 

"  How  can  you  expect  a  loyal  woman,  ignorant  of  your 
intentions,  I  may  add,  of  your  character,  to  answer  ques- 
tions for  which  you  bring  no  authority,  and  offer  no  mo- 
tive ?  You  may  be  a  thoroughly  faithful  soldier  of  your 
2* 


34  RENSHAWE. 

country,  or  numbered  among  her  foes.    How  am  I  to 
judge  ?" 

"An  investigation  on  your  part  is  possible  just  now," 
rejoined  Tomlin,  "  that  is,  should  you  not  think  it  neces- 
sary to  go  beyond  the  present  company.  It  is  an  impres- 
sion of  mine,  that  every  man  caiTies  his  credentials  legi- 
ble to  every  inteUigent  eye.  If  the  test  is  unfailing,  I  do 
not  fear  the  result."  He  took  off  his  cap  and  turned  his 
countenance  to  the  full  moon.  "  Now  then,  read  ;  and 
when  I  assure  you  that  in  all  my  thoughts,  hopes  and 
wishes,  I  am  a  loyal  son  of  the  United  States,  find  that 
in  my  face  that  says  I  lie." 

The  scrutiny  was  not  so  well  repaid  as  Tomlin  evi- 
dently expected,  owing  either  to  the  want  of  better  light, 
or  to  the  deficiency  of  inteUigence  in  my  optics.  The 
young  man's  face,  though  its  expression  was  undeniably 
fi'ank,  wore  a  certain  air  of  recklessness,  which  the  uncer- 
tain hght  could  not  soften,  nor  the  straightforwardness 
of  his  manner  redeem.  It  was  with  a  feeling  of  uncon- 
querable hesitation  that  I  bowed  an  acknowledgment  of 
my  readiness  to  comply. 

"  There  is  one  company  of  soldiers  stationed  at  Blue 
Hills,"  said  I.  "  The  regiment  is  on  its  way  to  Washing- 
ton." 

" So  they  are  government  troops?" 

"Yes." 

Tomlin  gi'ew  reflective.  "  Going  to  Washington !  w^hich 
way?" 

"Via  Eocky  Cross." 

"  And  when  do  they  move  ?" 

"  To-morrow  morning.  There  is  a  regiment  of  Federal 
troops  there,  they  say." 

"  They  must  not  go  to  Rocky  Cross,"  replied  TomHn. 
"  The  trooi^s  there  belong  to  the  Confederate  army." 

"  What  are  they  doing  at  Rocky  Cross  ?" 


BLUE  HILLS. 


35 


"I  don't  know ;  and  I  see  no  way  of  finding  out  be- 
tween now  and  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Send  one  of  the  zouaves  to  inquire,"  I  suggested. 

"  I  would,  but  Elisha  is  drunk  in  the  woods  yonder, 
and  as  Alancen  cannot  be  found,  I  presume  be  is  drunk 
somewhere  else.  I  sent  them  down  here  first ;  have  you 
seen  them  ? 

I  detailed  my  interview  with  the  zouaves  in  full.  Tom- 
lin  expressed  his  astonishment  that  I  should  have  facili- 
tated their  way  to  the  cider  barrel. 

I  owned  that.I  disliked  to  appear  ungrateful,  that  they 
had  recovered  my  watch,  which  I  valued  as  the  gift  of  a 
near  friend. 

"They!"  exclaimed  Tomlin;"who  handed  you  that 
little  article  this  morning,  Miss  Shaker  ?" 

"  You,  to  be  sure,"  I  rejoined. 

"  Well,  did  you  not  believe  the  e\ddence  of  your  senses 
against  the  claims  of  those  foolish  sots?  At  all  events 
you  take  a  strange  way  to  repay  their  services  according 
to  the  moral  view  of  the  matter." 

"Certainly,  I  should  not  have  done  it,"  said  I,  "but  I 
had  no  idea  they  would  drink  so  much.  I  hope  the  evil 
extends  no  farther,  and  that  no  one's  life  or  safety  is  en- 
dangered." 

"I  am  sorry  for  the  delay,  but  you  may  avert  the  con- 
sequences by  taking  to  these  officers  a  message  from  me. 
TeU  Captain— what's  the  name?  Good?— Tell  Captain 
Good,  then,  that  there  is  a  regiment  of  Confederate 
soldiers  at  Eocky  Cross.  Advise  him  against  taking  that 
route  to  morrow." 

"And  should  he  ask  your  name,  Mr.  Tomlin?" 

"Tell  him  the  name,  if  you  like.     He  won't  know  it.'* 

"  And  you  expect  they  will  leave  at  once,  don't  you  ? 

Tomlin  shook  his  head.  "A  seems,"  he  rejoined, 
"  that  two  men  have  been  on  the  premises,  drank  half  a 


36  RENSHAWE. 

barrel  of  cider,  carried  off  half  a  cask  of  wine,  and  robbed 
a  lieni'oost,  and  that  a  lady  has  conferred  with  two  parties 
on  the  affairs  of  the  nation,  all  without  the  knowledge  or 
notice  of  these  officers  or  their  men.  If  not  ignorant 
they  must  be  as  blind  as  bats.  They  are  a  slow  set,  ma- 
dam, and  what  you  tell  them  from  me  may  produce  no 
impression." 

"I  wiQ  report  your  message,  sir,"  said  I;  "  Good  night." 

"Good  night."  The  zouave  cap  was  lifted  mechanically, 
and  the  speaker  moved  off.  I  waited  till  his  retreating 
figure  was  lost  in  the  darkness,  before  hastening  back 
with  'Mrs.  Judson  to  the  house,  where  I  summoned  Mr. 
Gallorda,  without  loss  of  time,  to  hsten  to  my  revelation. 
I  declared  my  high  authority,  mentioning  even  Tomlin's 
name,  urged  the  fact  that  there  were  secessionists  at 
Kocky  Cross,  begged  that  the  soldiers  would  not  think 
of  moving  in  that  direction  on  the  following  day.  Lieu- 
tenant Gallorda  preseiwed  a  dignified  reticence,  and  after 
some  deliberation  sent  for  his  superior  officer.  The  cap- 
taiQ  came  down,  with  a  quiQ  behind  his  ear  and  his  di'ill 
book  in  his  hand,  and  received  my  presentment  of  the 
case  with  pompous  disdain. 

He  assui-ed  me  I  was  no  soldier  at  all,  but  a  woman 
unacquainted  with  military  affairs — a  j)iece  of  unexpected 
information.  He  said  he  was  captain  of  that  company, 
and  competent  to  take  care  of  it.  He  did  not  beHeve  my 
informant  could  be  other  than  a  spy,  or  at  best,  a  loose 
floating  chai'acter.  He  knew  all  about  the  regiment  at 
Eocky  Cross.  It  was  a  band  of  Union  men — he  intended 
to  join  them  in  the  morning,  and  should  go  the  direct 
road.  He  and  his  company  would  do  well  enough, — at 
all  events,  if  he  needed  any  advice  or  suggestions  on  my 
part,  he  would  ask  for  Jhem. 

Mr.  Gallorda  was  more  gracious.  He  apologized  for 
Captain  Good's  uncouthness  of  manner,  and  thanked  me 


BLUE  HILLS.  37 

for  my  kindness  in  imparting  my  information.  I  saw 
that  it  was  valueless,  and  conscious  that  in  giving  the 
warning  I  had  fully  discharged  my  duty,  I  regained  my 
room,  to  seek  whatever  rest  my  anxieties  for  the  morrow 
would  permit. 


CHAPTER    IV. 


'ABLY  the  next  morning  the  company  of  sol- 
diers and  their  first  heutenant  were  joined  by 
those  members  of  theii'  force  who  had  lodged 
under  Mr.  Shaker's  roof.  They  were  all  im^Datient  to 
be  gone,  for  they  had  learned  that  a  force  of  men,  proba- 
bly secessionists,  had  arrived  at  one  of  the  stations  below, 
and  it  was  feared  they  might  encounter  the  Federal 
party  passing  through  Blue  Hills. 

Good  cast  a  look  of  triumph  at  me  on  this  intelligence, 
and  said  significantly:  "  Shall  we  take  the  road  to  Rocky 
Cross,  or  go  back  as  we  came  ?"  I  made  no  remark,  and 
he  added  emphatically,  as  the  company  moved  off:  "  Don't 
trust  too  implicitly  to  idle  tales  brought  by  strangers. 
Believe  me  that  man  was  either  a  spy  who  wished  to 
trap  me  by  sending  me  away  from  safety,  or  a  robber  on 
the  lookout  for  pillage.     Yours  respectfully.  Good." 

We  were  just  settled  after  the  bustle  attendant  on  the 
departure  of  Mr.  Shaker's  guests  when  Sally  brought  news 
from  the  village,  of  the  most  alarming  nature.  The 
country  was  in  a  state  of  great  disorder:  an  old  man  liv- 
ing near  the  station  had  been  murdered  during  the  pre- 
vious night — the  telegraph  wires  were  cut  in  every  direc- 
tion, and  it  was  said  that  Captain  Good's  company  would 
never  reach  Rocky  Cross  alive. 

A  message  soon  came  from  the  store-keeper,  one  of 
the  most  important  functionaries  at  Blue  Hills,  to  recom- 


38  RENSHAWE. 

mend  !Mr.  Shaker  to  convey  away  to  some  place  of  safety 
whatever  property  of  value  he  possessed,  as  there  was  no 
saving  what  would  be  the  fate  of  any  building  in  the  hamlet, 
Mr.  Shaker's  attachments  were  conspicuous  forthwith — all 
hands  were  called  to  aid  in  moving  his  books  from  the 
library  to  the  floor  below,  and  the  next  hour  witnessed  a 
scene  of  unusual  confusion  in  the  establishment.  With 
nervous  hands  IVIr.  Shaker  selected  the  most  ancient  and 
valuable  of  these  possessions,  which,  with  Singular's  aid, 
lie  piled  uj)on  a  huge  hay-rack  as  far  as  its  dimensions 
would  allow.  Mr.  Shaker  covered  the  books  with  blan- 
kets, and  when  Singular  had  attached  the  oxen  he  moved 
off  with  his  precious  cargo  in  the  du-ection  of  the  village. 

Twist  wiped  his  face  and  sat  down  by  the  dog-kennel, 
too  much  overcome  by  his  recent  exertions  to  do  more 
than  shake  his  head  dolefully  in  response  to  a  loud  call 
of  "Sing'lar"  fi'om  the  sitting-room.  As  I  hastened 
thither  I  found  Mrs.  Judson  and  Sally  were  tying  in  a 
coverlet  a  series  of  articles  ranging  fi*om  feather  beds  to 
silver  forks  and  salt-spoons. 

In  the  midst  of  these  operations  a  figure  leaped  the 
garden  fence,  and  Tomlin  entered  the  capacious  apart- 
ment where  he  stood  for  some  minutes  gazing  at  the 
scene  unheeded  by  the  busy  group. 

"Where's  that  company  that  were  here  last  night?" 
inquired  the  visitor. 

"  Gone  to  Eocky  Cross,"  I  responded,  "  Captain  Good 
said  he  had  no  faith  in  warnings  brought  fi'om  uncertain 
sources." 

Tomlin  elevated  his  eyebrows  and  sat  down  with  the 
freedom  that  seemed  natural  in  the  disordered  state  of 
the  country,  disposing  of  several  eggs  in  the  coals,  and 
watching  the  process  of  their  roasting  with  a  reflective 
air  and  an  occasional  glance  at  the  scene  of  !Mrs.  Judson's 
labors. 


BLUE  HILLS. 


39 


"Now  then,"  she  said,  dragging  aside  one  huge  bundle 
of  efifects;  "that's  Mr.  Shaker's  blue  chany  pitcher 
— s'pose  it'll  break  in  the  box  wagon  ?" 

"Not  in  straw,"  I  answered,  "but you  should  tie  the 
mirrors  better,  Mrs.  Judson." 

"Going  to  Saratoga?"  asked  Tomhn.  Mrs.  Judson, 
who  had  cast  some  furtive  glances  in  the  direction  of  the 
visitor,  asked  me  in  a  low  tone:  "  One  of  them  zows,  ain't 
it,  was  up  to  mother's  yesterday  ?" 

I  said  "  Yes"  aside.  Tomlin  now  asked  where  were  the 
old  gentleman,  and  Twist. 

"Mr.  Shaker,  he's  gone  to  the  village,"  replied  Mrs. 
Judson.  "  Sing'lar's  jest  crawled  arter  some  of  the  neigh- 
bors to  help  him  catch  Gusty.  Be  back  about  noon,  I 
suppose." 

Mrs.  Judson,  Sally  and  I  hied  to  the  barn,  where 
the  box  wagon  already  stood  piled  with  featherbeds  and 
cai-pets.  The  looking-glass  and  crockery  were  soon  add- 
ed, when  we  found  it  past  our  efforts  to  move  the  wagon 
out  on  terra  firma. 

"We'll  hev'  to  onload  agin,"  said  Mrs.  Judson. 
"Thair's  that  ar  feller  comin',"  remarked  Sally;  "mebbe 
he'll  help." 

Tomlin  leisurely  approached,  eyed  the  wagon  and  ex- 
pressed his  opinion  that  it  was  woman's  work,  then  Hfted 
the  shafts,  and  the  conveyance  jolted  out  of  the  wagon- 
house,  with  a  force  that  impelled  Mi'S.  Judson  to  spring 
after  the  crockery  and  Sally  after  the  looking  glasses. 
All  was  safe,  however." 

"Now  then  where's  your  horse?"  demanded  he,  "un- 
less you  expect  to  draw  the  things  yourselves." 

"  Gusty's  way  down  in  the  back  lot.     Tole  Sing'lar  to 
catch  him,  but  he's  cleared  out  entirely."^ 
"  Run  from  the  rebels,  eh  ?" 
"  Ain't  runnin'  very  fast,  I  guess,"  said  Mrs.   Judson, 


40  RENSHAWE. 

"  an'  I'm  bound  he  shan't  hev  Gusty  to  kerry  him.    Miss 
KenshaTve  an  I's  agoin  with  the  baggage." 

"  You'd  better  stay  where  your  are,"  rejoined  Tomlin, 
"  unless  you  vakie  the  baggage  more  than  youi'  hves. 
I'll  harness  the  horse  for  you,  so  finish  your  packing  and 
be  quick." 

He  vaulted  over  the  fence,  ran  across  the  meadow, 
and  brought  uj)  Gusty  in  short  order.  Singular  returned 
to  assist  in  the  harnessing:  and  in  comphance  with  ^Irs. 
Judson's  strenuous  admonition  he  was  soon  urging  off 
Gusty,  who  moved  slowly  before  his  load,  up  the  high- 
way in  the  direction  of  the  old  woman's  cottage. 

Mr.  Shaker's  house  was  soon  a  lively  scene,  as  many 
women  belonging  to  the  village  had  hastened  thither  to 
discuss  the  approaching  calamities,  and  seek  all  the  con- 
solation that  numbers  could  inspii-e.  The  sitting-room 
was  full.  Most  were  women  of  the  better  class  in  the 
village.  Among  the  motley  crowd  only  one  figui'e  was  fa- 
miliar; it  was  that  of  the  old  woman,  ^Irs.  Judson's  moth- 
er, who  brought  the  important  intelligence  that  Captain 
Good  and  his  comjDan}'  were  so  far  safe,  and  that  they  were 
all  hid  away  in  the  woods  above  her  house.  Aiter  this  in- 
formation had  been  repeated  in  every  possible  form,  and 
discussed  till  it  was  fairly  worn  out,  the  aged  female  took 
refuge  in  a  corner  of  the  room  where  she  proceeded  to 
solace  herseK  with  her  pipe.  Mrs.  Judson's  anxieties 
about  the  furnitui'e  increased.  Singular,  in  going  towards 
Eocky  Cross,  would  be  sui-e  to  fall  into  the  jaws  of  the 
rebels  with  all  his  cargo,  for  though  slow  enough  on 
ordinary  occasions  ]\Irs.  Judson  declared  that  a  "faster 
feller  to  run  into  danger  never  was  seen." 

Armed  with  two  listeners  the  old  woman  went  into  a 
detailed  account  of  her  recent  grievances.  "Thar  was 
no  less  than  five  of  them  fellows,"  she  said,  "  what  do  you 
call  'em? — swarrows, — fiar  swarrows,  settled  themselves 


BLUE   HILLS.  41 

inmy  house  the  day  before  yesterday,  and  there  they  stayed 
and  not  a  word  must  be  spoken  or  a  place  to  sit  down  for 
anybody.  Two  of  'em  stole  everything  there  was  in 
the  house— the  other  two  was  the  sassiest  impidentest 
fellers  I  ever  seed  in  my  life.  And  the  civilest  one  of 
the  lot  brought  a  great  horse  and  stood  him  in  the  smoke- 
house, and  there  he  stays  yet,  and  was  hootin  and  bellerin 
all  night,  and  where  his  owner  was  nobody  knew." 
"  Do  you  mean  TomUn  ?"  said  I. 

"  Law  sakes,  I  don't  know  none  of  their  names.  The 
feller  with  the  hoss  is  tall  and  quite  a  Hkely  looking  man; 
he  didn't  come  with  the  swarrows  at  all— he  got  thar 
night  before  last,  and  I  recollect  I  had  to  boil  more  coffee 
for  his  supper  and  then  the  rest  all  wanted  a  cup,  and  they 
lay  round  the  floor  screeching  and  singing  till  twelve 
o'clock." 

"  Was  Elisha  in  last  night  ?"  asked  I. 
"  I  don't  know  their  names.  There  was  one  came  in 
this  morning,  as  drunk  as  a  fool.  He  had  on  a  shirt  of 
printed  caliker  under  the  red  one.  He  said  it  was  an  old 
dress  of  his  granny's.  The  other  feller  took  him  out  under 
the  pump  and  gave  him  a  ducking,  and  I  thought  he 
wanted  it  enough." 

"  As  for  that  ere  Tomlin,  IMiss  Renshawe,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Judson  to  me,  "he's  as  oncivil  a  feller  as  one  would 
want  to  meet  around  a  kentry.  I  heerd  him  tellin'  Sing- 
'lar  this  momin,  when  he  was  agoin'  off,  that  he  didn't 
see  why  those  two  women  wanted  to  run  from  the 
rebels  or  any  one  else.  One  on  'em  was  darned  old  and 
t'other  one  was  confounded  ugly." 

Supposing  the  latter  part  of  the  compHment  to 
apply  to  me,  I  endeavored  to  master  the  chagrin  it 
occasioned,  with  some  mortification  that  it  should 
have  produced  any  at  aU.  I  soon  persuaded  myself 
that  an  opinion  from  such  a  soui'ce  was  done  very  httle. 


42  EENSHAWE. 

Time  wore  on,  and  as  there  were  no  signs  of  any 
rebels  from  Blue  Hills,  eveiybody's  apprehensions 
calmed  down  considerably.  One  by  one  the  wo- 
men dropped  off,  and  the  old  woman,  Mrs.  Judson, 
Sally,  and  I  were  left  to  undisturbed  possession  of  the 
premises. 

It  was  ten  o'clock,  perhaps  later,  for  the  sun  was  riding 
quite  high  in  the  heavens,  when  a  distant  boom  from  the 
north  reached  our  ears  in  its  reverberations  through  the 
intervening  chffs. 

"That  was  a  gun!"  cried  IMi's.  Judson,  starting  up. 
"  Tliey're  at  it  now,  as  sure  as  fate." 

"Lord!  the  poor  critters!"  groaned  the  old  woman. 
"Let's  run  up  to  the  rock  and  look." 

The  ledge  of  rock  alluded  to,  lay  a  short  distance 
fi-om  the  first  curve  made  by  the  road  to  the  northward. 
Following  close  on  Mrs.  Judson,  we  soon  reached  the 
flat  jut  of  the  highest  cliff,  whence  we  all  three  gazed 
anxiously  towards  the  distant  hills  of  Eocky  Cross,  strain- 
ing eyes  and  ears,  but  seeing  nothing,  save  the  fail'  fields 
the  noble  forests,  the  white  cottages,  scattered  sparsely 
though  the  landscape,  the  long  stretch  of  calm  valley, 
undulation  and  plain,  and  the  solemn  azure  clouds.  The 
sound  of  a  second  gun  soon  reached  our  ears,  and  a 
succession  of  quick,  sharp  shots  cut  the  air,  rattling  off 
in  the  thicket,  where  they  lay  crackling  like  the  fii'e  among 
thorns. 

"  See  !  see  the  smoke  !"  cried  IMi'S.  Judson,  as  the  cloud 
curled  over  the  heads  of  the  distant  trees.  "  Sing'lar's 
up  thar,  right  in  the  thick  of  it,  and  Gusty,  and  all  the 
things.     Wish  now  we'd  sent  'em  to  the  village." 

"  Mebbe  they'U  fight  up  thar  tm  they've  aU  got  kiUed 
on  both  sides,"  said  the  old  woman.  "Thar's  a  big 
smoke,  s'pect  it's  my  house  a-goin'." 

There,  seemed,  however,  to  be  a  cessation  of  hostilities, 


BLUE   HILLS.  43 

for  some  minutes  passed  witlioiit  further  disturbance. 
Just  then  I  descried  the  form  of  a  man  running  into  the 
gate  of  the  garden. 

"Thar's  that  same  young  cuss  of  a  swarrow!"  ex- 
claimed the  old  woman.  "  What  in  conscience  can  he  be 
after  conjiu'ing  in  thar  ?" 

The  last  remark  was  made  in  reference  to  the  move- 
ments of  the  Zouave,  who,  after  running  in  and  out  of 
the  cottage,  around  and  beyond  it,  and  after  looking  into 
the  shed  and  the  smoke-house,  and  other  out-houses,  was 
at  last  attracted  by  a  screech  from  the  old  woman,  who, 
standing  on  tip-toe,  with  both  hands  to  her  mouth,  gave 
him  notification  of  her  position.  Forthwith  he  came  up 
the  ledge  by  the  same  path,  though  with  more  dehberate 
step,  and  disclosed  the  well-known  features  of  the  Zouave, 
Alancen. 

"  Whar's  Tomlin  ?"  was  his  first  question. 

"  Oh,  just  look  at  this  battle !"  cried  Mrs.  Judson, 
whose  tongue  had  not  ceased  to  run  since  we  had  arrived 
at  our  present  station. 

"  Battle  !"  echoed  Alancen  ;  "  that's  nothing  but 
banging  a  little  to  make  beUeve  they  don't  know  the  reb- 
els are  coming; — I  say,  whar's  TomHn?" 

As  he  spoke,  his  eye  traversed  restlessly  the  roads  in 
all  directions.  He  took  a  step  or  two  backward  and 
beckoned  to  me. 

"  Hevn't  you  seen  Tomlin  to-day  ?" 

I  replied  I  had  seen  him  at  Mr.  Shaker's. 

"  He  said  I  must  meet  he  here  this  morning.  He  owes 
me  fifteen  cents,  and  so  I  come.  Hevn't  you  seen  any 
sign  of  he  around  here  ?" 

A  distant  call  attracted  our  attention  to  the  gate  of 
the  lawn,  at  which  stood  a  man  whom,  at  that  distance, 
it  was  difficult  to  identif5\ 

"Thar's  somebody  a-shoutin',"  said  Mrs.  Judson;  "he 


44  RENSHAWE. 

just  come  up  the  hill,  that  is,  his  shirt  did,  I  didn't  see 
him." 

"  That's  he,"  said  Alancen,  and  hastening  down  the 
cHff  he  emerged  on  the  highway,  where  Torahn  speedily- 
met  him.  After  a  short  conversation  Alancen  started  off 
on  a  fast  run  for  the  village,  and  Tomhn  struck  into  the 
woods. 

Anxiously  did  we  await  intelligence  from  the  quarter 
of  the  omens.  None  came;  and  it  wore  on  to  broad  high 
noon  with  our  uncertainty  still  unreheved.  It  was  some 
time  after  our  descent  from  the  rock,  where  we  had  Hs- 
tened  to  the  awe-inspiring  sounds  fi'om  the  north,  that 
Singular's  retui'n  was  heraJded  by  Sally.  Gusty's  famil- 
iar image,  and  Twist's  conspicuous  straw  hat,  were  next 
in  sight,  and  the  box-wagon  rattled  into  the  court-yard 
at  a  more  tumultuous  rate  than  was  usual  under  the 
auspices  of  its  methodical  driver. 

Singular  was  armed  with  exciting  intelligence.  There 
had  been  a  tremendous  battle — Captain  Good  had  sur- 
rendered, and  had  been  carried  off  to  Eocky  Cross  a  pris- 
oner. Three  men  of  his  company  had  been  wounded, 
and  they  were  then  at  the  cottage  of  IMrs.  Judson's 
mother.  The  sm\geon  had  been  sent  for,  and  Singular 
himself,  after  making  sui'e  that  the  fight  was  ended,  had 
ventured  to  seize  upon  Gusty  and  the  wagon,  and  thus 
avoided  what  he  termed  "  a  powerful  tii'esome  walk 
home." 

"Don't  onharness,  Sing'lar,"  shouted  Mrs.  Judson. 
"  Let  Gusty  stan'  while  I  get  rea.dy.  Mother  and  me's 
a-goin'  up  there,  right  away.  You  ken  kill  a  few  chick- 
ens, and  put  'em  into  the  wagon.  Thar  can't  be  nothin' 
left  up  thar  to  eat,  with  all  them  fire  zows  a  visitin'  sin 
day  afore  yesterday." 

This  surmise  was  confirmed  by  the  old  woman,  and 
when  haK  a  dozen  good  sized  baskets,  filled  with  provis- 


BLUE   HILLS.  45 

ions,  had  been  placed  in  the  wagon,  Gusty  again  moved 
off  to  the  north,  with  the  two  females  on  the  seat. 

Singular,  in  the  meantime,  had  gone  to  meet  Mr. 
Shaker,  and  on  his  return  from  an  unsuccessful  search 
for  his  master,  was  quite  surprised  to  find  that  the  women 
had  gone.  During  that  morning  Gusty  had  already  trav- 
eled six  miles,  and  he  had  a  spavin  which  was  always 
worse  when  he  was  driven.  Singular  knew  those  women 
would  drive  so  hard  as  to  finish  him  off  completely.  He 
assui-ed  me  confidentially,  that  "  that  Jul}"  Judson  "  was  a 
very  contrary  creetur;  raely,  a  crookeder  stick  he'd  never 
seen  in  his  life,  and  she  was  alius  in  a  hurry.  If  there 
was  anything  in  this  world  he  did  despise  it  was  a  woman 
or  a  man  that  was  all  the  time  a-blowin'  a  whistle,  and 
travehn'  like  a  rail-road  car.  Thar  ort  to  be  moderation 
in  all  things,  and  six  miles  for  Gusty  in  one  day  was 
more  than  enough. 

I  paid  but  Uttle  attention  to  these  murmurings  at  first, 
until  I  found  that  other  miseries  than  Gusty's  were  in- 
volved. 

"Then,  you  see,"  Twist  continued,  "Mr.  Shaker'll  be 
back,  and  be  wantin'  me  to  help  move  his  books.  I  can't 
go  clar  back  up  thar  agin,  not  if  they  never  don't  git  thar 
medicines." 

I  asked  what  medicines  he  meant,  and  was  informed 
that  the  doctor  had  met  him  on  the  road,  and  commis- 
sioned him  to  procure  several  drugs  at  the  village,  which 
he  expected  to  need  in  the  course  of  the  day.  These 
Twist  would  not  take  it  upon  himself  to  carry.  It  was  a 
small  package  of  several  small  phials,  and  perceiving  that 
Singular  was  obdurate,  I  determined  immediately  to  re- 
pair the  dehnquency.  I  saw  his  mind  was  greatly 
relieved  as  soon  as  I  announced  my  intention,  for  he 
was  not  so  far  given  over  to  his  idols  as  not  to  feel  some 
compunctions  for  his  neglect  of  the  wounded  men. 


46  KENSHAWE. 

"  Singular,"  I  said,  just  as  I  was  about  setting  out  with 
my  basket  of  medicines  on  my  arm;  "what  was  it  that 
]\Ir.  Tomhn  said  to  you  about  'Mis.  Judson  and  myself  this 
morning?" 

"  This  mornin'  ?"  echoed  Twist,  with  a  conscious  look. 

"Yes,  when  you  were  getting  into  the  box-wagon." 

"  Wall,  he  did  mention  a  httle  su'thin'  ;  said  she  warn't 
very  young,  an'  you  warn't — very  harnsome.  I'm  much 
obleeged  to  you  for  totin'  up  the  medicine  stuff,  but  it'll 
be  a  powerful  tiresome  walk  ef  ye  don't  meet  with  a  lot 
o'  soldiers.     Have  the  gun  ?" 

I  dechned,  with  thanks,  and,  rendered  nervous  by  the 
late  surmise,  I  proceeded  to  execute  my  errand  at  a  gait 
that  must  have  excited  Sinonilar's  admiration. 


CHAPTER  V. 


^^yHE  doctor's  gig  stood  at  the  gate  of  the  cottage 
|t^'\   just  as  I  arrived.  Mrs.  Judson  ran  out  to  take 

^^  the  medicines,  mentioning  Singular  in  terms 
more  energetic  than  polite  : 

"Whole  posse  of  'em  here — most  dead — three  rebels — 
can't  tell  whether  t'other  is  a  rebel  or  not.  Ben  flyin' 
round  the  house  ever  sence  I  come !" 

The  doctor  came  out  with  a  morocco  case  of  imple- 
ments, stopped  to  take  the  medicines  from  me,  and  to 
utter  some  rapid  dii'ections  to  us  both :  "So  many  drops 
to  the  patients  up-stairs,  and  the  powders  to  Tomlin." 

"Tomlin!"  I  exclaimed;  "is  he  hurt?" 

"  Shot  in  the  leg,"  repUed  IMrs.  Judson,  "  walked  up 
through  the  woods  afterwards,  anyhow." 

The  doctor  drove  off  with  a  promise  to  call  in  the  eve- 


BLUE  HILLS.  47 

ning,  and  I  followed  Mrs.  Judson  in,  so  precipitately  that 
I  nearly  ran  against  Tomlin,  who  was  lying  on  the  floor 
near  the  door-way,  his  breath  coming  and  going  in  quick, 
strong  gasps,  and  the  perspiration  in  large  drops  on  his 
face  and  temples.  The  old  woman,  rendered  decidedly 
cross  by  the  present  inundation  of  guests,  whom,  she  de- 
clared, she  should  never  get  rid  of  in  a  month,  was  bust- 
ling about  with  sheafs  of  straw,  filHng  the  room  with  dust 
and  confused  grumblings.  For  my  own  part,  my  com- 
miseration rendered  me  dumb  for  some  minutes;  then  I 
ventured  to  ask  Tomlin  whether  I  could  serve  him,  by 
vnriting  to  apprise  his  fi-iend  of  the  accident.  To  this  he 
simply  said  "  No  ;"  and  when  I  added  a  suggestion  that 
he  might  like  to  be  sent  home,  replied  that  he  had  none. 
After  this  I  was  silent.  The  old  woman  now  came  in 
and  announced  to  Mrs.  Judson  that  she  had  extemporized 
a  bed  for  Tomlin,  in  the  room  overhead,  out  of  a  couple  of 
saw-horses,  some  boards,  a  sheaf  of  straw,  and  a  horse 
blanket,  which  was  all  there  was  to  be  had. 

"You  know,"  said  Tomlin,  "that  I  can't  get  up-stairs. 
Bring  the  bed  down." 

"I  can't;  goodness,  hev  you  down  here  botherin ! 
Parlor  an'  settin'  room  both  took  up." 

"  I  didn't  say  so,"  retorted  Tomlin,  crossly;  "  I  wouldn't 
stay  here  in  this  smoky  hole,  I  assure  you.  Get  the  bed 
into  the  smoke-house.  I'd  rather  stay  there  fifty  times 
over." 

"  Smoke'us !  well,  I  guess  so.  S'pect  you're  goin'  to 
keep  me  trotten  up-stairs,  an  out-doors  too !  An'  your 
hoss  is  in  my  smoke'us,  and  two  hams  Mr.  Shaker  gave 
me  sufferin'  to  be  smoked." 

Tomhn  answered  in  a  petulant  tone;  but  she  could  out- 
talk  him,  and  finally  he  besought  her  to  be  silent.  The 
argument  in  regard  to  the  smoke-house  was  ended  only 
by  the  appearance  of  the  zouave  Alancen. 


48  EENSHATVE. 

"  HeTn't  you  seen  Tom  1  in  ?  "  asked  he,  presenting  his 
shaggy  head  at  the  door.  "  Oh !  there  you  air !  WTiat's 
the  matter  ? 

Mrs.  Judson  and  her  mother  began  in  full  chorus  to 
demand  that  Tomhn  should  be  taken  above  stairs. 

"Yes,  for  heaven's  sake,"  said  Tomlin,  "before  you  say 
another  word,  get  me  out  of  this  place  before  I  am  fairly 
dead  fi'om  a  woman's  tongue." 

"Bless  my  soul!  you  agoin'  to  be  laid  up!"  exclaimed 
Alancen,  "  I'll  do  what  I  ken ;  but  I  ken't  get  you  up 
them  stairs  nohow.  Come  out  through  this  door  and 
walk  up  the  hill  to  the  fi'ont  one." 

"It's  all  nailed  up,"  cried  the  old  woman,  "and  a  stick 
nailed  across  it  ;  I  say  it's  nailed  so  nobody  can  get  in — 
fuU  of  nails !" 

"Massy!  don't  you  s'pose  I've  seed  nails  afore?"  re- 
torted the  zouave  ;  "jest  you  go  up  an'  onbolt,  an'  ef 
Tomlin  can't  get  under  the  stick  nor  over  it,  why,  I'U 
smash  it  down,  and  the  least  said  the  soonest  mended. 
I  don't  see  no  use  in  nailin'  up  a  house  without  it  is  to 
aggravate  the  fellows  that  wants  to  get  in." 

Tomlin  took  the  arm  of  the  zouave,  and,  though  with 
much  difficulty,  made  his  way  up  the  hill,  and  through 
the  front  door,  Alancen  breaking  down  the  banicade, 
much  to  the  old  woman's  indignation.  The  operation 
was  quite  fatiguing,  and  when  Tomlin  sank  at  last  on 
the  improvised  couch,  his  deadly  pallor  was  that  of  a  man 
at  the  last  gasp. 

"Seems  to  be  a-dyin',"  remarked  the  aged  female,  in 
the  tone  of  one  who  alludes  to  a  consummation  devoutly  to 
be  wished. 

"Nawthin'  but  a  chill,"  said  Alancen,  reassuringly. 
"  Hain't  you  got  no  blankets  nor  bed-clothes  to  cover  he  up?" 

"Narry  a  thing,"  assei-ted  the  hostess;  "all  I've  got  is 
on  the  other  feUers,  an'  more  too." 


BLUE  HILLS.  '49 

"Don't  you  know  that  those  fellers  is  rebels?"  said 
Alancen  fiercely;  "go  right  in  thar,  and  haul  the  things 
orf.  Don't  you  see  what  a  chill  he's  got  ?  shakes  Hke  a 
hoss  agoin'  to  mill.  Come,  get  them  clothes  orf  the  rebels 
I  say." 

Tomlin  with  some  difSculty  gasped  out  a  protestation. 
Nothing  on  those  beds  should  be  touched.  There  was 
his  coat  below  stairs,  and  a  sheep-skin  in  the  smoke- 
house. 

"Sheep-skin!"  yelled  the  old  woman;  ''that's  a  good 
sheep-skin — can't  hev  it  here  noway." 

"Get  it,"  roared  Alancen;  and  after  much  grumbhngthe 
sheep-skin  came.  Alancen  threatened  to  nail  it  fast  to 
the  boards  if  the  old  woman  said  any  more,  and  at  any 
rate  he  should  mount  guard  there  for  the  rest  of  the 
afternoon  to  take  care  of  his  "  comrade." 

The  other  zouave  came  in  before  long.  Tomlin  still  quite 
exhausted,  held  a  discourse  with  him  in  an  undertone, 
and  the  result  was  an  errand  on  Elisha's  part  at  Rocky 
Cross.  The  zouaves  insisted  on  dinner  as  a  prehminary, 
and  for  some  time  the  meal  proceeded  peaceably  till 
Alancen's  vn-ath  was  excited  at  last  by  a  comment  made 
by  his  companion  on  his  pecuHarities  of  diction. 

"  What  makes  you  all  the  time  keep  sayin' '  he,'  when 
you  ort  to  say  'him,'  Lance?"  he  demanded.  "Don't  you 
know  it's  bad  grammar?  'tell  he'  and  'take  he ' — ^who  ever 
heerd  sech  talk  ?" 

"  You  poor  known-nauthen  creeter,"  said  Alancen,  pro- 
foundly compassionate.  "All  the  grammar  books  will 
tell  you  it's  onreggilar  to  say  him  the  way  folks  always 
says  it." 

"  Bad  grammar  to  say  him !"  cried  Elisha. 

"  Yes,  I  tell  you,  I  am,  thou  art,  he  is,  contractions,  Isn, 
yoursn,   hisn — got   a  good   whippin'  once    on    that  to 
school;  I  ken  show  you  'he  is '  in  any  grammar." 
3 


50  REXSHAWE. 

"  That  may  be,  but  not  'he'  all  the  time,"  expostulated 
Elisha. 

The  discussion  grew  loud;  the  zouaves  yelled,  grew  red 
in  the  face,  and  hammered  on  the  table  with  knives  and 
fists.  An  admonishing  call  from  above  sounded  in  a 
second's  interval  of  exhaustion. 

"  Lord !  that  man  ain't  dead  yet,"  groaned  the  old  wo- 
man. Mrs.  Judson  ran  to  the  top  of  the  step  ladder 
and  opened  the  door. 

"  Tell  those  fellows  I  won't  have  any  more  of  that  con- 
founded noise,"  said  Tomhn  sharply.  "I  want  you  to 
give  Elisha  his  dinner  and  get  him  off." 

"I've  giv'  him  his  dinner,"  retorted  Judson,  and  she 
pronounced  Tomlin  cross  as  two  sticks — pitied  his  wife  if 
he  had  one,  and  his  mother  if  she  had  seen  him  gi'ow  up. 
The  disturbance  was  queUed  in  a  measure :  EHsha  was 
soon  ready  to  go,  and  stnick  off  on  foot  for  the  North, 
and  Alancen  withdrew  to  the  upper  rooms.  We  had  de- 
ferred oui'  repast  till  it  could  be  taken  at  leisure,  and  a 
discussion  peaceful  in  its  natui'e,  which  next  arose,  prom- 
ised to  sux3ply  enough  to  think  of  aside  from  any  other 
consideration. 


CHAPTEK  VI. 


EOCKY     CEOSS. 


fT  related  to  my  trunk,  and  any  woman  who  peruses 
these  pages  will  readily  understand  the  feeling  of 
anxiety  with  which  I  contemplated  its  fate.  The 
carpet-bag  brought  by  Singular  Twist  from  the  depot 
contained  enough  for  present  necessities,  but  in  my 
trunk  were  much  summer  clothing,  valuable  ornaments 
and  laces,  highly  prized  mementoes,  letters,  books  and 
many  things  too  numerous  to  mention.   The  more  I  con- 


BLUE   HILLS. 


51 


sidered  the  matter,  the  stronger  grew  my  reluctance  to  re- 
main in  ignorance  of  its  fate.  I  was  sure  that  if  I  were 
to  go  to  Rocky  Cross  I  should  meet  with  no  detention, 
should  be  civilly  treated,  might  be  aUowed  to  come  away 
with  my  property,  or  at  least  might  ascertain  into  whose 
hands  it  had  fallen.  Mrs.  Judson's  whose  opinion  of  the 
rebels  was  by  no  means  very  severe,  agreed  with  me  in 
the  general  probabiHty  of  my  self-assurance,  and  as  my 
anxiety  gi'ew  stronger,  she  suggested  that  a  way  might  be 
found  by  which  I  might  succeed.  The  secessionists^  had 
taken  Gusty  away  that  very  morning,  therefore  neither 
he  nor  the  box  wagon  was  available.  Rocky  Cross  was 
eight  mHes  distant— five  hours  would  be  ample  time  to 
take  me  thither  and  back  on  a  horse  not  remarkably  fleet, 
allowing  for  httle  detentions.  I  saw  no  objection  except 
the  want  of  a  horse,  side-saddle  and  riding  habit. 

Thar  was  Tomlin's  hoss  out  in  the  smoke-house,  the 
old  woman  remarked;  she  thought  his  legs  looked  prettj/ 
long— guessed  he  could  go  and  come  in  two  hours.  Mrs. 
Judson  added  that  among  the  valuables  which  she  had 
rescued  were  Miss  Edith  Launey's  side-saddle  and  a  bran- 
new  riding  habit.  She  could  not  wonder  in  the  least  at 
my  anxiety  about  the  trunk,  nor  at  my  fearlessness  of 
the  rebels  whom  she  thought  the  mildest,  peaceablest 
folks  she  ever  had  seen. 

An  inspection  of  the  riding  habit  and  side-saddle  was 
quite  satisfactory.  The  former  was  of  very  handsome 
materials,  though  preposterously  long,  being  calculated  to 
tangle  the  feet  of  any  horse  of  ordinary  height,  and  the 
decorations  of  gilt  cord  and  gold  buttons  I  did  not  regard 
as  adding  to  its  taste  or  beauty.  The  side-saddle  was 
well  equipped  with  girths  and  straps  of  no  doubtful 
strength,  and  the  next  thing  in  order  was  asking  Tomlin 
for  the  loan  of  his  horse.  I  made  my  way  up  the  step- 
ladder  to  the  room  above  with  caution,  being  reluctant  to 


52  RENSHAWE. 

disturb  him  if  asleeep.  Tomlin  was  wide  awake,  Ms 
large  eyes  fastened  dreamily  on  a  quarter  of  the  wall,  on 
which  the  sunbeams  reflected  from  an  array  of  tin  out- 
side the  window  kej^t  up  an  unremitting  play. 

"  1  think  of  taking  a  ride  this  afternoon,"  said  I,  "and  I 
came  to  borrow  your  horse." 

The  full  dark  eyes,  shaded  by  a  hand  nearly  as  white 
as  the  sheep-skin  on  which  it  rested,  regarded  me  for  a 
minute  as  though  I  had  asked  for  a  cannon. 

"  Going  on  business,  or  merely  for  the  exercise?" 

"Business  of  a  pressing  nature." 

More  silent  scrutiny; — the  eyes  grew  reflective. 

"  You  are  a  Union  woman,  I  beheve  ?" 

"  Will  that  make  any  difference  about  my  having  the 
horse?" 

"No;  oh  no.     Going  to  be  gone  long ?" 

"Not  a  great  while;  four  or  five  hours." 

More  silence.     I  grew  impatient. 

"You  have  not  said  yet  whether  I  can  have  the  horse." 

"  I'm  afraid  you  can't  manage  him." 

"  Can  I  have  him,  ]Mr.  Tomlin  ?" 

"Yes,"  replied  Tomlin,  in  the  tone  of  a  man  who  as- 
sents because  he  looks  upon  denial  as  useless.  I  has- 
tened to  the  smoke-house,  and  must  confess  to  a  feeling 
of  dismay  at  sight  of  the  quadi-uped.  He  was  a  beast 
whose  apj)earance  was  calculated  to  dismay  a  woman  less 
determined  on  enterprise  than  I.  Mrs.  Judson  assisted 
me  to  put  on  the  saddle,  and  I  hastened  back  to  the 
house  to  clothe  myself  in  Miss  Launey's  riding  habit. 

"  That  girl  will  get  her  neck  broken,"  said  Tomhn  to 
Mrs.  Judson,  who  had  gone  up  to  attend  on  the  patients 
*  Do  you  know  where  she  is  going  ?" 

"  After  some  clothes,"  Mrs.  Judson  answered  with  very 
proper  reticence.  Tomlin  declared  that,  in  that  case,  he 
would  say  no  more,  but  a  minute  after  I  heard  him  ask- 


BLUE  HILLS.  53 

ing  her  wlio  I  was  and  where  I  came  from,  and  desiring 
her  to  tell  me  that  the  horse  was  unbearable  on  a  trot 
and  dangerous  on  a  canter,  and  that  I  ought  not  to  ven- 
ture him  off  a  walk. 

I  untied  the  horse  with  some  awe — he  behaved  very- 
well  till  he  reached  the  fence  and  I  was  safe  on  his  back, 
when  he  turned  around  thrice  in  quick  waltzing  time.  I 
reined  him  in  with  a  strong  pull  on  the  curb  bit,  and  thus 
brought  to  his  senses  he  walked  quietly  through  the  gate, 
and  I  turned  his  head  in  the  direction  of  Kocky  Cross. 

It  was  some  time  before  I  ventured  to  let  him  exceed 
a  walk,  but  when  he  had  coursed  through  a  tract  of  forest, 
where  the  branching  limbs  were  effectual  protection 
against  the  rays  of  the  summer's  sun,  Bucephalus  merged 
into  a  trot,  a  gait  so  swift  as  to  put  considerable  distance, 
in  a  short  space  of  time,  between  me  and  the  cottage.  I 
felt  a  little  nervous,  and  was  doubtful  whether  I  had  done 
wisely  in  undertaking  so  perilous  a  journey,  even  for  the 
sake  of  an  important  trunk.  It  was  not  only  a  lonely 
but  a  sohtary  road, — I  met  no  one  in  the  whole  course  of 
the  distance,  which  I  followed  according  to  the  minute 
direction  given  me  by  Mrs.  Judson.  On  reaching  the 
turnpike  I  rode  on  faster,  and  soon  came  in  sight  of  the 
secession  flags  floating  from  the  steeples  of  Black  Cross. 
Just  before  I  entered  the  village,  as  I  passed  a  little  gothic 
cottage,  oppressed  by  a  load  of  shrubbery  which  was 
scarcely  restrained  by  the  fence,  a  young  lady  issued  fi'om 
the  gate,  which  she  appeared  to  think  unworthy  the  touch 
of  her  fair  fingers,  for  she  opened  it  with  an  air  of  great 
disgust,  and  addressed  me. 

"  Do  you  know  where  I  can  find  a  saddle-horse  ?" 

I  repHed  as  courteously  as  possible  to  the  effect  that 
I  did  not  know,  and  the  young  lady  retreated  through 
the  shrubbery.  I  rode  on.  Indeed  it  would  have  been  a 
difficult  matter  to  stop;   but  the  first  face  I  had  met 


54  RENSHAWE. 

with  on  the  way  naturally  made  some  impression  on  me. 
It  was  long,  thin,  and  colorless,  the  eyes  rather  sunken, 
and  the  expression  unattractive;  but  tKe  other  details 
struck  me  with  no  little  wonder.  Her  figure  was  slender, 
and  not  particularly  graceful;  her  dress,  of  a  black  though 
not  moui'ning  material,  was  made  and  trimmed  in  the 
latest  fashion,  and  her  hair  appeared  to  be  fi-esh  from 
the  hands  of  the  barber.  I  had  but  little  time  to  think 
of  her,  however,  as  I  was  soon  in  the  heart  of  the  village. 
Soldiers  were  standing  about  the  sidewalks,  and  walking 
in  knots  of  two  and  three  together,  and  secession  colors 
met  my  eye  in  every  direction.  As  I  turned  down  the 
main  road  a  young  man,  in  the  dress  of  an  officer, 
crossed  the  street. 

It  was  Captain  Charles  Berkley.  I  knew  him  immedi- 
ately, and  a  second  look  settled  the  conviction  on  my 
imagination.  Before  this,  I  had  seen  him  for  a  few  min- 
utes only,  under  circumstances  which  did  not  permit  a 
close  scrutiny;  still  my  present  impression  was  firm.  Re- 
vohdng  the  matter  busily,  I  rode  on  to  the  station,  where 
I  expected  to  find  my  trunk.  It  was  not  there,  and  the 
solitary  occupant  of  the  depot  informed  me  that  every- 
thing there  in  the  shape  of  baggage  had  been  taken  to 
the  Colonel's  head-quarters. 

Having  come  so  far,  I  thought  it  a  pity  to  return  with- 
out success,  and  on  making  application  to  a  middle-aged 
and  gentlemanly-looking  officer  for  assistance,  found  it 
afforded  in  the  most  poUte  and  ready  manner.  The  offi- 
cer conducted  me  immediately  to  the  head-quarters. 
Here  I  descended — the  horse  was  led  off  to  be  fed,  and 
I  followed  my  guide  into  the  parlor  of  a  httle  tavern 
fronting  on  the  street.  There  was  much  baggage  piled 
about  the  room,  and  I  soon  recognized  my  trunk  stand- 
ing on  end  in  a  corner  of  the  apartment,  the  centre-piece 
of  a  pile  of  well-filled  sacks,  empty  knapsacks,  and  broken 
baskets. 


f  BLUE  HILLS.  55 

While  I  sat  looking  over  some  New  York  papers  of  a 
recent  date  which  lay  on  the  table,  an  elderly  female  in 
a  dark  dress,  plaid  shawl,  and  old  straw  bonnet,  trimmed 
with  dingy  ribbon,  came  into  the  room,  asking  to  see 
Colonel  Hunter  immediately,  without  delay.  Her  name 
was  desired.  "Mrs.  Kyan,"  she  answered,  "important 
business."  Mrs.  Kyan  was  asked  to  see  one  of  the  staff, 
but  no — nobody  would  do  but  the  Colonel. 

The  appearance  of  an  officer  in  uniform,  who  looked  as 
though  the  cares  of  a  nation  rested  on  his  shoulders, 
was  the  consequence  of  this  demand.  He  was  a  stoutly 
built  man,  of  average  height,  and  carried  himself  with  an 
air  of  confidence.  His  features  were  somewhat  flat — 
the  mouth  broad,  the  eyes  blue,  the  forehead  squarish, 
and  his  whole  bearing  was  free  and  easy,  rather  than  ele- 
gant. He  came  in  in  a  great  hurry,  and  inferring,  proba- 
bly, from  the  magnificence  of  my  costume,  that  I  was 
the  more  important  party  of  the  two,  addressed  me  first. 
"  My  time  is  quite  limited,  madam,"  he  said,  "  so  com- 
mand me  immediately." 

I  said  I  had  been  without  my  trunk  for  two  or  three 
days,  and  as  it  was  in  the  room  at  present  I  took  the 
hberty  of  asking  if  I  might  have  it.  I  had  ridden  about 
ten  miles  on  horseback  for  the  purpose  of  making  this 
request. 

"  Good  heavens,  Mrs.  Ryan !"  exclaimed  the  Colonel, 
"  couldn't  you  have  seen  one  of  my  staff  on  this  trifling 
subject  ?  You  can  have  your  trunk,  certainly.  AVill  you 
take  it  away  on  horseback  ?" 

I  expressed  my  willingness  to  confer  with  any  member 
of  the  staff,  and  announced  that  my  name  was  not  Ryan. 
An  officer  was  called  in  by  the  Colonel,  and  directed  to 
attend  to  my  wants.  I  had  the  key  of  the  trunk,  and 
while  the  officer  was  ascertaining  whether  it  would  fit, 
my  attention  was  caught  by  a  dialogue  carried  on  be- 


56  RENSHAWE. 

tween  Mrs.  Eyan  and  Colonel  Hunter.  She  announced 
that  she  had  received  a  letter  from  Tomlin. 

"  Very  happy  that  you  have  received  a  letter,  and  sorry 
not  to  know  Tomlin,"  said  the  Colonel;  any  more  impor- 
tant intelligence  T' 

"  Here's  the  note;  I  thought  you  might  read  it,"  re- 
joined the  woman.  She  handed  the  billet  to  Hunter, 
and  he  stood  occupied  with  its  perusal.  I  was  anxious 
for  the  issue,  but  felt  that  it  would  not  do  to  linger 
there.  The  trunk  was  acknowledged  to  be  mine,  and  the 
means  of  its  transportation  was  discussed  feelingly  by 
the  officer  who  had  been  appointed  to  the  trial.  I  in- 
formed him  that  there  were  some  wounded  soldiers  at 
the  cottage  where  I  was  staying,  for  whom  an  ambulance 
was  to  be  sent  from  Eocky  Cross;  that  I  supposed  my 
horse  and  wagon,  (for  I  thought  the  possessive  pronoun 
allowable  under  the  circumstances,)  would  accompany 
the  ambulance,  and  my  trunk  could  come  with  it.  The 
officer,  who  was  certainly  very  obliging,  attended  imme- 
diately to  the  matter,  and  with  such  alacrity  that  by  four 
o'clock,  I,  on  Tomlin's  well-fed  steed,  was  riding  on  the 
homeward  route  in  company  with  the  ambulance,  Gusty, 
Mi\  Shaker's  wagon,  and  two  drivers.  I  kept  a  httle  in 
advance  of  the  party,  and  was  in  ignorance  of  the  pecu- 
liarities of  their  manners;  therefore,  when  we  reached 
the  cottage,  which  was  about  an  hour  after  sunset,  I  was 
rather  surprised  to  find  them  both  extremely  tipsy. 

Everything  at  the  cottage  remained  the  same,  except 
that  there  was  rather  more  bustle  than  when  I  left  it, 
occasioned  by  the  demands  made  by  the  wounded  men 
on  their  female  attendants.  I  contemplated  with  no 
Httle  compunction  the  necessity  of  abandoning  the  poor 
fellows  to  the  guidance  of  two  drunken  drivers  for  the 
distance  of  eight  miles;  but  there  seemed  to  be  no  alter- 
native, and  the  next  contingency  to  be  provided  against 


BLUE   HILLS.  57 

was  that  of  the  said  envoys'  taking  away  more  than  they 
were  entitled  to  carry.  It  was  with  some  difficulty  that  I 
made  them  understand  who  were  the  proper  objects 
of  their  care;  and  not  until  they  had  nearly  dragged 
Tomhn  off  the  bed,  or,  to  speak  more  accurately,  off  the 
saw-horses  and  boards,  could  they  be  prevailed  on  to  let 
go  their  hold.  They  were  all  off  at  last,  the  three  wound- 
ed men,  the  two  tipsy  men,  the  ambulance,  and  the 
horse  that  drew  it,  to  say  nothing  of  a  few  bed-clothes, 
two  straw  ticks,  a  couple  of  candles,  and  several  jugs, 
spirited  away,  probably,  under  the  delusion  that  they 
contained  something  stronger  than  water.         / 

I  had  just  witnessed  the  last  of  these  manoeuvres,  and 
had  seated  myself  to  the  welcome  refreshment  of  a  little 
tea,  served  on  the  kitchen  table,  (for  it  was  as  late  as 
nine  o'clock,  and  after  my  long  ride  I  was  hungry,)  when 
Mrs.  Judson,  after  shutting  the  gate  on  the  departing 
guests,  dragged  herself  wearily  in. 

"  That  feller  up-stairs,  in  the  room  overhead,  wants  to 
see  you,  Miss  Renshawe,"  she  said.  "I  don't  know 
whether  he'U  wait  till  you've  done  supper  or  not — seems 
to  be  in  a  hurry." 

I  did  not  tarry ;  a  few  seconds  found  me  up  the  step- 
ladder,  and  asking  Tomlin  what  he  wanted. 

Tomlin  was  very  restless,  and  quite  feverish.  He  asked 
if  all  the  doors  were  shut,  so  that  those  chattering  wo- 
men were  out  of  hearing.  Having  made  this  matter  sure 
I  was  next  acquainted  with  his  intentions. 

"  Any  carriage  or  wagon  on  these  premises  ?"  he  in- 
quired. 

I  mentioned  the  box- wagon,  which  had  just  come  from 
Rocky  Cross. 

He  next  inquired  if  his  horse  was  below.  I  answered 
in  the  affirmative. 

"  What  time  of  night  is  it?" 


58  EENSHA^Ti 

"  Nine  o'clock,"  said  I. 

Tomlin  raised  himself  on  one  elbow,  wincing  visibly 
with  the  movement,  and  looked  at  the  darkness  gathering 
outside  the  window. 

"Any  moon?" 

"  Not  tin  midnight.  " 

Tomlin  now  informed  me  that  it  would  be  necessary  for 
him  to  go  that  night  to  Caney  Fork,  a  town  about  twenty 
miles  distant.  As  he  was  not  able  to  travel  on  horse- 
back he  would  like  to  have  the  wagon  got  ready  immedi- 
ately. 

I  expressed  some  doubts  of  his  sanity,  but  his  very 
collected  manner  banished  that  idea.  Forced  to  adduce 
some  additional  reason,  Tomlin,  though  with  evident  re- 
luctance, went  into  particulars.  He  informed  me  that 
for  the  past  few  days  he  had  been  acting  as  a  scout 
for  a  small  division  of  the  Union  Army.  The  presence 
of  the  Confederate  troops  at  Kocky  Cross  was  only  tem- 
porary, and  it  needed  only  for  him  to  go  to  Caney  Fork 
to  render  it  dangerous.  The  Eocky  Cross  regiment  held 
Good,  Gallorda,  and  their  company  prisoners.  He  hap- 
pened to  know — no  matter  how  he  received  his  informa- 
tion— that  a  body  of  Union  men  would  stop  that  night  at 
Caney  Fork,  and  that  when  informed  of  the  numbers  and 
position  of  those  at  Kocky  Cross,  they  would  stop  a  little 
longer,  and  take  them  prisoners  before  proceeding.  The 
zouave,  Alancen,  was  to  have  aided  in  the  expedition,  but 
he  had  been  away  two  or  three  hours,  very  probably  in- 
toxicated, and  at  all  events,  Tomlin  could  wait  for  him 
no  longer. 

It  needed  only  this  explanation  to  ensure  in  me  the 
most  willing  of  assistants.  I  hurried  out  doors  to  in- 
spect the  facilities.  I  found  !Mrs.  Judson  unharnessing 
Gusty,  while  her  mother  held  the  lantern. 

"Men's  work  and  all  kinds  you  see,  Miss  Renshawe," 


BLUE  HILLS.  59 

said  Mrs.  Judson.  "  Here's  poor  Gusty  as  patient  as  a 
lamb,  and  I'm  sorry  about  Miss  Launey's  side  saddle. 
Them  drunken  fools  turned  that  hoss  out  without  takin  orf 
the  saddle,  an'  the  crittui-'s  rolled  on  it  an'  broke  the  horn." 

"No  matter,"  said  I ,  "we  must  catch  that  horse  again, 
and  harness  him  to  the  wagon;  TomHn  wants  to  go  to 
Caney  Fork." 

"  Wants  to  go  lohere  V  shouted  both  the  women  in 
astonishment.  I  repeated  the  announcement  as  calmly 
as  possible. 

"Head  wanderin',  think?"  asked  Mrs.  Judson,  in  a 
tone  calculated  to  give  the  death-blow  to  the  project. 

I  said  no — that  he  really  had  an  important  errand. 

"  I'll  go  in  and  see  him,"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  and  after 
turning  Gusty  loose  she  followed  me  to  the  room  of  which 
Tomlin  was  the  soHtary  occupant. 

"  I  wouldn't  go  to  Caney  Fork  to  night  if  I  was  you," 
she  said.  "  Won't  your  business  keep  till  you  can  set  up 
in  bed,  Mr.  TomUn." 

"  I'm  going  to-night,"  said  Tomlin.  "  Make  haste  for 
God's  sake,  and  harness  that  horse;  the  next  thing  wiU 
be  to  get  me  down  stairs." 

"I  can't  get  you  down  stars.  I  hevn't  got  the  strength 
of  Harkelus,  And  there's  only  three  lone  women  here; 
how  can  we  ever  put  the  hoss  in  the  wagon !" 

"  I  didn't  ask  you  to  put  him  in  the  wagon,  only  in 
the  shafts,"  said  Tomlin.  "Don't  stand  here  arguing 
woman,  I  haven't  all  night  to  spare." 

"  I'll  do  jest  what  you  say,"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  appeal- 
ing with  a  bewildered  look  to  me. 

"  It  is  necessary,  I  fear,"  I  replied. 

Mrs.  Judson  took  up  the  lantern,  and  though  with 
much  reluctance  on  her  part,  we  saUied  forth  again. 

"I  don't  see  into  this  affair  at  all,"  she  said.  "Who's 
agoin'  to  drive?" 


60  EENSHAWE. 

"I  shall  go  with  him,"  said  I. 

IMrs.  Judson  shook  her  head,  deposited  the  lantern  on 
the  fence  of  the  one-acre  lot  we  had  just  entered,  and  we 
set  about  giving  chase  for  the  horse.  But  it  soon  ap- 
peared that  it  was  much  more  easy  to  capture  the  said 
animal  in  a  smoke-house  than  in  an  area  of  one  acre. 
After  uniting  our  efforts  for  some  time  we  stopped  to 
hold  a  council. 

"Are  there  no  oats  that  we  can  entice  him  with?"  said 
I. 

"Old  red  devil's  hide  is  so  full  of  oats  now  that  his 
head's  fairly  turned  with  'em.     We'll  try  Gusty." 

Gusty  was  tried  and  found  to  succeed  as  far  as  catch- 
ing was  concerned.  He  was  guided  obediently  to  the 
conveyance,  but  just  as  the  harness  was  adjusted  on  his 
back  he  sighed,  gi'oaned,  fell  on  his  knees  and  gave  every 
token  of  a  cataleptic  fit. 

"Good  laws!  the  hoss  is  a-dyin!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Judson.     "  :Mi\  Shaker's  poor  old  Gusty  !" 

Poor  old  Gusty  was  immediately  extricated,  as  fast  as 
two  pair  of  hands  could  accompHsh  it.  Mi'S.  Judson 
vsdped  her  forehead. 

"  Guess  Tomlin  won't  get  to  Caney  Fork  to-night  at 
this  rate,"  she  said.  "  Sixteen  miles  yesterday  and  to- 
day is  too  much  for  Gusty,  and  thar's  that  gi'eat  snortin' 
red  brute  come  to  the  fence  to  look  on.  Wuth  while  to 
try.  and  catch  him,  think  ?" 

I  again  suggested  the  oats.  A  peck  measure  full  was 
pro\ided  and  offered  to  the  sagacious  steed,  who  sniffed  of 
them  and  quietly  proceeded  to  their  consumption.  I  soon 
had  him  fast  by  the  mane,  Mrs.  Judson  brought  a  halter 
and  his  capture  was  complete. 

"  Now,  then,  we'll  get  him  right  in  the  wagon."  But 
this  division  of  the  triumph  was  diversified  in  its  inci- 
dents.  After  multitudinous  backings  of  the  animal,  which 


BLUE   HILLS.  61 

without  exaggeration  was  the  tallest  horse  I  ever  saw^ 
mingled  ^vith  repeated  solicitations  on  the  part  of  Mrs. 
Judson,  such  as  "Thar  now,  old  feller,  step  straight."  we 
urged  the  beast  to  a  proper  position.  Just  as  we  secured 
the  traces  a  loud  sigh  on  his  part,  and  a  staggering 
moYement  a  la  Gusty,  was  conducive  to  dismay. 

"  Get  him  out,  quick  1"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Judson.  "  He'U 
break  the  shaves— he'U  kick  down  the  dash-board.  Lord ! 
he's  Hke  an  elerphantl  Unbuckle  the  breechin'  strap 
quick.  Seems  handled  just  hke  Gusty.  They  must  hev' 
been  poisoned  up  thar  at  Kocky  Cross." 

The  harness  came  off  quicker  than  it  ever  went  on,  and 
as  soon  as  the  horse  was  fi-eed  from  the  incumbrance  he 
manifested  his  sense  of  dehght  by  prancing,  kicking,  toss- 
ing his  head,  and  by  various  other  equine  manoeuvres. 

°'Yer  dancin'  too  soon,  old  feUer!"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Judson,  whose  wrath  was  aroused  by  this  demonstration. 
"  Couldn't  wait  till  ye  got  in  the  lot !  Now  then  I'll  pay 
you  for  mimickin'  poor  old  Gusty.  The  horse  was  again 
caught  and  backed  up  to  the  wagon.  "Little  you  feel 
yer  sixteen  miles,  cuttin'  capers  hke  that.  Hist  the 
shaves  up  and  fetch  em  down  on  his  back  Miss  Eenshawe. 
I'm  no  notion  of  havin'  him  lyin'  down  on  'em  agin'. 
Seems  to  hev'  been  a  circus  boss,  or  sich." 

"  Tomlin's  a  hollerin',"  observed  the  old  woman  from 
the  kitchen. 

"He's  gottohoUer  then,"  said  Mrs.  Judson;  "been  a 
hoUerin'  aU  day  about  nothing;  he  can  holler  now  for 
somethin'.  Yew'll  hev  to  be  earful  goin'  down  hiUs,  Mjss 
Eenshawe— breechin'  is  wonderful  weak,  and  the  hills 
atween  here  and  Caney  Fork  is  straight  up  and  down, 
some  on  'em." 

Laying  to  heart  this  encouraging  admonition,  and 
having  seen  that  the  harness  was  as  strongly  secured  as  its 
joints  would  allow,  we  came  back  to  the  house,  and  having 


62  RENSHAWE. 

made  our  way  up  the  step  ladder,  found  Mr.  Tomlin  in  a 
state  of  great  agitation. 

"  Hevn't  but  jest  this  minit  got  harnessed,"  said  !Mrs' 
Judson. 

"^Miat  the  devil  have  you  been  doing?"  said  Tomlin; 
*'it's  nearly  ten  o'clock." 

"Can't  help  it  my  lord  if  it  is;  that  *ere  boss  of  your'n 
cut  so  many  didos — " 

"  Well  never  mind  ;  get  me  out  to  the  wagon  as  quick 
as  you  can." 

This  operation  was  next  considered.  "  Take  me  right 
up  and  carry  me,"  suggested  the  subject.  "There  are 
three  of  you !" 

"  How  much  do  you  suppose  you  weigh  ?"  asked  Mrs. 
Judson. 

"  Not  so  much  as  I  did  this  morning." 

Our  efforts  were  united,  and  after  much  labor  we  suc- 
ceeded, not  in  lifting  Mr.  Tomlin,  but  in  bringing  down 
the  saw-horses,  boards,  sheep-skins,  etc.,  all  in  a  heap. 

"  Now  we've  done  it !"  exclaimed  Judson. 

"You  have  certainly  done  it,"  said  Tomlin,  "if  that 
means  you've  smashed  my  leg.  Now,  then,  can't  you 
drag  me  along  the  floor  to  the  front  door  ?  then  I'll  try- 
to  walk." 

"Maybe  you'U  walk  to  Caney  Fork,"  said  ]Mrs.  Judson. 
Acting  on  his  suggestion,  she  took  one  shoulder  and  I 
the  other,  while  the  old  woman  supported  the  wounded 
leg.  In  this  unceremonious  fashion  we  reached  the  fi'ont 
door. 

ISIrs.  Judson  spread  a  sheaf  of  straw  in  the  wagon, 
which  was  backed  up  to  the  steepest  part  of  the  side-hill. 
The  door  was  taken  off  its  hinges,  adjusted  with  one 
end  on  the  wagon,  the  other  on  a  level  with  the  porch, 
and  the  rough  transportation  was  soon  effected. 

The  night  wind  blew  cold  on  Tomlin 's  reduced  frame. 


BLUE  HELLS. 


63 


and  I  hastened  to  bring  out  the  coverings,  while  Mrs. 
Judson  fastened  in  the  board  at  the  end,  and  placed  the 
seat  in  front. 

"Won't  you  go  too,  Mrs.  Judson?"  I  asked. 

"  Wouldn't  trust  myself  behind  that  harness  over  that 
rough  road  to-night  for  a  fortune,  and  ef  Tomhn's  goin' 
to  groan  hke  that  aU  the  way,  I  wouldn't  go  for  ten." 

"  Says  put  in  the  saddle,"  said  the  old  woman,  who  had 
been  adjusting  the  straw  under  Tomlin's  head. 

"Calkilate  to  ride  hossback  to-night?"  asked  Mrs.  Jud- 
son. "  Laws !  laws  !  you'U  get  to  Caney  Fork  in  style ! 
Better  take  Gusty,  Mr.  Tomhn;  you  and  he's  about  a 
match." 

"Means  the   side-saddle,"  answered  the  old  woman. 

The  disabled  side-saddle  was  brought;  a  delay  of  a  few 
minutes  ensued  while  Tomlin's  pistols  were  sought  in  the 
remains  of  his  bed,  and  with  these  securely  deposited 
under  the  seat,  I  took  my  place,  and  Sunset,  which  I 
learned  to  be  the  name  of  the  sagacious  steed,  moved  off 
again  under  my  guidance  on  the  high-road.  I  looked 
back  several  times,  rather  regretfully,  at  the  door,  where 
Mrs.  Judson's  tall,  gaunt  form,  and  her  mother's  white 
cap  were  made  visible  by  the  rays  of  the  candle  which 
she  held  up  to  Hght  my  course.  A  turn  in  the  road  soon 
hid  the  friendly  gleams.  I  heard  the  gate  shut,  and  the 
door  closed  with  decision;  and  I  was  left  to  my  long 
journey  with  a  wounded  man,  a  tired  horse,  on  a  road 
where  very  few  stars  relieved  the  darkness. 


64  RENSHAWE. 

CHAPTEE  YII. 

CANEY   FORK. 

f  IS  AGREE  AELE  as  were  the  features  of  the  adven- 
ture, they  did  not  present  themselves  in  full  force 
until  I  had  accomplished  the  first  mile  of  the 
journey,  -when  they  became  painfully  apparent.  I  was 
virtually  without  protection.  My  sole  companion  was  a 
man  prostrated  by  suffering,  my  only  defence  two  pistols 
that  I  could  not  use,  and  beside  the  darkness  of  the  night 
and  loneliness  of  the  road  there  was  the  danger  of  an 
encounter  with  enemies,  or,  quite  as  imminent,  though 
scarcely  less  perilous,  a  breakdown.  Uneasy  and  tremu- 
lous, I  endeavored  to  keep  up  my  sinking  courage  by 
asking  Tomlin  how  he  felt  three  times  as  often  as  neces- 
sary, my  inquiries  being  constantly  answered  in  a  pa- 
tient, reassuring  tone,  as  though  theii'  motive  was  fully 
comprehended. 

We  had  gone  on  thus  for  some  time  ;  the  night  had 
gTown  so  dark  that  I  could  no  longer  discern  the  ghastly 
outline  of  Tomlin's  face  on  the  straw.  A  sudden  fear 
came  upon  me.  If  he  should  die  on  the  jom-ney  how  un- 
speakably awful  would  be  my  position !  Alone  in  the 
woods  with  a  corjose!  Horrors!  In  desperate  fear  I 
exclaimed,  "  Are  you  ahve,  ^Ii'.  Tomlin  ?" 

"  Yes."  Eeassured  by  the  iaformation,  and  deriving 
much  hope  from  the  tone  in  which  it  was  given,  I  endeav- 
ored to  lead  Tomlin  into  conversation.  As  a  subject 
likely  to  interest  him,  I  introduced  my  expedition  to 
Eocky  Cross,  and  detailed  my  search  for  my  tnink.  We 
had  just  passed  an  opening  made  by  a  cart  path  in  the 
forest,  and  had  proceeded  on  a  stretch  of  gi'ound  unusu- 
ally level,  when  the  mention  of  Colonel  Hunter  naturally 
came  in. 


BLUE  HILLS. 


65 


"What !"  exclaimed  Tomlin,  "  Did  you  know  the  name 
of  any  of  the  other  officers,  then  ?" 
"  Only  Captain  Charles  Berkley." 
"Who  said  he  was  there?" 
No  one;  I  saw  him  myself." 
"  You  know  Captain  Berkley  ?" 
«  By  sight. ' 
"And  a  Mrs.  Ryan  came  there,"  I  added,  "  with  a  note 

for  Colonel  Hunter." 
■ "  A  note  ?"  exclaimed  my  companion. 
"  Yes,  I  think  she  said  fi'om  you,  if  I  heard  the  name 

aright." 

After  a  short  silence  Tomlin  spoke  agam,  in  a  tone 

much  more  feeble. 

"Miss  Renshawe,  I  find  I  cannot  accompHsh  this  jour- 
ney. You  wiU  be  obliged  to  turn  this  conveyance  around, 
and  go  back  to  the  cottage." 

Astonished  at  this  change  of  base,  I  demurred.  Tom- 
lin insisted.  He  was  much  worse,  found  the  hills  getting 
yery  bad,  and  really  could  not  proceed.  As  we  were 
traveling  over  a  very  level  surface,  and  as  TomUn's  voice 
had  grown  feeble  within  a  very  few  minutes,  I  found  it 
impossible  to  comply. 

"You  have  taken  too  much  pains  to  urge  on  me  the 
necessity  of  going,  Mr.  Tomlin,"  said  I.  "  You  find  the 
disciple  worse  than  his  master.     Go  back  I  cannot." 

"  \\niy,  madam, you  cannot  proceed  against  my  wishes! 
I  say  we  must  go  back." 
"  What's  the  alternative  ?" 

Communication  ceased  for  some  time  after  this  ques- 
tion In  the  course  of  a  minute  a  stray  horse  came 
wandering  up  the  road-side.  Tomlin's  ear  caught  the 
sound  of  extra  hoofs,  and  he  startled  me  by  calling  out, 
loudly,  "Hallo,  fiiend,  are  you  from  Eocky  Cross?" 
"Oh,  that's  the   alternative,  is  it?"   said  I,  stopping 


66  RENSHAWE 

short,  while  the  animal  scampered  away.  "That's  well; 
but  as  the  next  party  may  be  a  man,  as  well  as  a  horse, 
we  must  provide  for  it,  ]Mr.  Tomlin." 

I  got  down,  tm-ned  Sunset  about,  and  led  him  back  to 
the  opening  of  the  cart-i3ath  in  the  thicket.  Guiding  the 
wagon  well  under  the  boughs,  I  immediately  proceeded 
to  unharness  the  horse. 

"^\Tiat  on  earth  are  you  doing.  Miss  Kenshawe?'* 
asked  Tomlin.     I  explained  in  a  very  few  words. 

"  Not  going  to  leave  me  here  alone  ?"  he  exclaimed. 

"You  have  left  me  no  choice,"  I  replied,  in  a  tone  of 
severity.  "  Once  more,  ^h\  Tomlin,  will  you  go  with  me 
toCaneyFork?" 

"  I  cannot  go  with  you.  It's  of  no  use  to  go  now.  That 
Kyan  woman  has  betrayed  me,  if  you  icill  know  the 
truth." 

"  You  might  have  said  so  before,"  I  answered.  A  new 
suspicion  had  come  into  my  mind;  that  he  feared  not  Airs. 
EyaA,  but  me,  learning  my  knowledge  of  so  many  names, 
and  so  much  countei-plotting. 

That  question  was  settled.  The  shafts  fell,  and  Sunset 
was  free. 

"I  wish  to  heaven  I  had  two  legs  to-night,"  muttered 
TomHn,  as  I  took  the  saddle  from  the  vehicle. 

"  Thank  you,"  said  I,  "  but  I  do  not  need  your  sei-vices. 
I  was  taught  long  ago  to  saddle  a  horse.  I  have  had  a 
practical  education." 

"  Oh,  d d  practical!"  was  the  elegant  rejoinder. 

"  If  you  must  swear,  "Mr.  Tomlin,"  I  continued,  "  you 
might,  at  least,  wait  till  I  am  out  of  hearing." 

"  I  was  not  swearing  at  you,"  he  repHed. 

"  I  presume  it  was  at  the  horse.  I  am  going  now,  and 
you  need  not  suppose  that  I  am  at  all  deceived  as  to  your 
real  character.  I  beheve  you — firmly  beheve  you  to  be 
a  secessionist  spy." 


BLUE  HILLS.  67 

No  answer.  I  was  already  on  Sunset,  when  a  short 
whistle  from  Tomlin  brought  the  horse  at  once  to  the 
side  of  the  wagon;  a  low  click  at  the  same  moment 
revealed  that  a  search  for  the  pistols  had  been  going  on 
in  the  straw,  and  was  successful.  ,     .  ,,     ■       l 

"Good  God!"  I  exclaimed,  with  a  bound  of  the  heart 
that  I  did  not  soon  recover  from;  "  are  you  going  to  kill 

"""No'NrepUed  he,  coUectedly,  "I  was  about  to  offer 
yoTimypistols-you  may  need  them  before  your  jour- 

""^"Thrnk  you;  they  would  be  useless;  I  never  handled 
one  in  my  hfe.  For  a  parting  word,  Mi'.  Tomlin,  I  leave 
you  never  expecting  to  see  you  agam  ahve,  and  I  re- 
gret deeply  that  I  hear  no  other  language  than  that  ot 
oaths  on  the  Ups  of  a  dying  man." 

With  this  parting  admonition,  to  which  no  response 
was  given,  I  rode  on.  I  was  stiff  from  my  ride  in  the  after- 
noon a  fact  which  I  did  not  perceive  until  on  the  saddle. 
If  the  concomitants  of  the  journey  before  were  far  from 
pleasant,  they  were  still  less  so  now,  and  my  heart  al- 
most failed  me  when  I  turned  the  horse's  head  agam  to 
the  ric^ht.     It  was  no  time  for  misgivings  or  heart-flutter- 
ings,  however,  and  the  pressing  consideration  of  physi- 
cal pain  was  banished  by  the  importance  of  my  errand^ 
Deteinnined  that   it    should   not   be   a  tedious  ride,  I 
ui-ed,  or  rather  invited,  my  steed  to  proceed  on  a  can- 
ter    The  nights  at  that  period  of  the  year  were  short, 
and  I  was  well  aware  that  three  hours  after  midnight 
would  bring  daybreak.     I  had  so  far  remembered  IVIrs 
Judson's  instructions  and  followed  them  imphcitly  but  I 
was  confused  by  a  caprice  of  the  road  which  I  could  not 
determine  was  a  lane.    I  took  it,  and  after  folio wrngm- 
numerable  windings,  sometimes  without  the  sign  ot^  a 
fence  by  the  roadside,  I  found  myself  on  a  broad  plam, 


68  EENSHAWE. 

where  the  track  grew  more  distinct  at  the  intersection  of 
a  crossroad.  I  took  the  crossroad,  and  about  an  hour  after 
sunrise  reached  the  river  side. 

"  Can  you  tell  me  what  place  this  is  ?"  I  asked  of  a 
wretched  looking  woman  who  was  raking  a  few  sticks 
together  by  the  road. 

"  It's  Caney  Fork  mill-pond,"  she  repHed. 

"  And  how  near  is  the  Tillage  ?" 

"  About  two  miles,  up  north." 

As  I  was  about  moving  on,  she  added,  "  I  wouldn't  go 
up  through  Caney  Fork — troop  of  sojers  there.  Cum  las' 
night,  and  goin'  off  sometime  this  mornin'  to  Washington." 

A  minute  direction  was  asked  and  given.  Sunset  did 
not  move  at  his  original  gait,  and  by  the  time  I  rode  into 
Caney  Fork,  no  article  of  his  appearance  belied  the  fact 
that  he  had  traveled  all  night  on  a  small  supper.  How- 
ever Tomlin  had  obtained  his  information,  it  was  cer- 
tainly accurate.  The  troop  was  there,  and  they  were 
Union  men.  iMisgivings  crowded  upon.  me.  How  could 
they  act  without  orders — moreover,  if  they  were  to  go  to 
Washington,  how  could  their  departure  be  deferred  ? 

On  my  interview  with  the  lieutenant  colonel  which 
took  place  in  the  street  I  found  these  difficulties  not  ad- 
vanced. The  company  commanded  by  Good  and  Gallorda 
belonged  to  that  regiment;  as  that  company  was  captui'ed 
and  at  Rocky  Cross  his  only  choice  was  to  set  them  free. 
In  less  than  an  hour,  the  regiment  was  under  full  march 
toward  Rocky  Cross,  and  Sunset  regaling  himself  with  four 
quarts  of  oats  beneath  the  shade  of  a  maple  tree  near  the 
principal  hotel  under  his  late  rider's  special  superinten- 
dence. 

I  waited  nearly  all  day  for  intelligence  from  Rocky 
Cross,  agitated  by  every  rumor  that  disturbed  the  village 
where  I  was,  and  as  apparently  all  the  women  in  the 
place  had  come  out  on  the  door  stones  and  piazzas,  these 


BLUE  HILLS  ^9 


rumors  were  numerous  enough.  Late  in  the  afternoon, 
the  Federal  troops  returned-they  had  been  to  Bocky 
Cross,  scattered  aU  Hunter's  regiment  without  kiUmg  ^^ 
capturing  anybody,  and  brought  back  Good  GaUorda 
and  the  whole  company  intact  together,  with  no  end  of 
baggage,  that  had  been  left  behind.  This  baggage,  ladea 
onTeveral  wagons,  was  hurriedly  inspected. 

I  was  just  going  off  with  Sunset  when  this  came  to 
pass  and  my  attention  was  attracted,  by  seeing  a  large 
load  of  books  among  the  plunder.  On  these  I  bestowed 
close  inspection,  and  before  long  discovered  that  they 
Tvere  Mr.  Shaker's  most  valuable  possessions. 

This  fact  I  made  immediately  known  to  the  lieutenant 
colonel,  and  it  was  at  once  enacted  that  those  books 
should  go  directly  back  to  their  owner  under  my  auspices. 
Knowing  that  it  would  be  quite  unsafe  to  leave  them  at 
Caney  Fork,  I  immediately  hired  two  wagons  to  take 
them  back  at  once.  Captain  Good  came  up  to  thank  me 
for  his  recent  dehverance,  in  a  manner  that  seemed  to 
say,  he  would  have  preferred  to  remain  with  his  captors 
rather  than  be  indebted  to  such  an  auxiliary. 

«  Much  obliged  to  you,  ma'am,  or  rather  to  your  horse. 
Methinks  I've  seen  your  face  before— Shakspeare.  You 
have  both  done  a  most  gaUant  thing!  Yours  respect- 
fuUy— Good." 

It  was  nearly  sunset  before  those  wagons  were  loaded, 
and  the  regiment  with  its  recovered  members  on  the 
way  to  Washington.  Much  as  I  disliked  remaining  at 
Caney  Fork,  I  had  no  option  between  that  and  another 
ride  at  night  through  the  woods,  and  feeling  scarcely 
equal  to  that  undertaking,  I  remained  that  night  at  the 
cottage  of  an  aged  widow  with  whom  I  had  scraped 
acquaintance  during  the  day  ;  I  had  directed  the  men 
who  drove  away  with  the  wagons  to  go  to  Tomhn's  rescue ; 
givino-  them  such  precise  instructions  where  he  was  to  be 


70  RENSHAWE. 

found,  that  I  was  sure  they  could  not  fail  to  discover 
him.  I  sent  to  him  a  small  basket  with  provisions  and 
a  Httle  bottle  of  brandy,  as  it  was  by  no  means  probable 
that  he  had  had  anything  to  eat  duriQg  a  night  and  day, 
alone  in  the  woods.  I  sent  also  a  message  to  Mr.  Shaker, 
requesting  that  Tomhn  might  remain  under  his  roof,  and 
my  mind  was  thus  reheved  of  all  its  compunctions  on  his 
account. 

I  was  quite  tired  out  with  my  recent  exertions.  The 
previous  day  I  had  ridden  from  Blue  Hills  to  Rocky 
Cross  and  back  again,  a  distance  of  nearly  twenty  miles  ; 
the  previous  night  ten  miles  more  on  horseback  ;  for  I 
judged  that  it  was  about  ten,  I  had  journeyed  in  Tomlin's 
company  ;  it  was  not  surprising  therefore  that  I  had  no 
inchnation  for  further  travel,  and  was  content  to  post- 
pone Blue  Hills  till  morning. 

Early  in  the  morning,  in  fact  at  daybreak,  I  hastened 
away  fi'om  Caney  Fork,  without  experiencing  the  shghtest 
regret,  deferring  my  breakfast  until  I  was  back  at  Mr. 
Shaker's.  The  millpond  was  passed  speedily,  and  in  the 
course  of  two  hours  I  reached  Eocky  Cross,  where  the 
landmarks  were  soon  recognizable.  Just  as  I  left  the 
viQage,  I  caught  sight  once  more  of  the  little  cottage 
with  its  dormer  windows  and  wreaths  of  shiTibbery.  The 
little  gate  and  stone  paving  were  so  famihar,  that  I  was 
by  no  means  sui'prised  when  the  picture  was  completed, 
by  the  appearance  of  the  same  young  lady  whom  I  had 
encountered  on  the  previous  day,  or  by  a  repetition  of 
the  same  question  : 

"  Do  you  know  where  I  can  j&nd  a  saddle-horse  ?" 

"  My  goodness,"  I  could  not  resist  exclaiming, "  haven't 
you  found  a  saddle  horse  yet  ?"  My  interlocutrix,  who  at 
first  had  not  recognized  me,  by  reason  of  the  difference 
m  dress  and  accoutrements  which  I  presented,  looked 
somewhat  annoyed  on  the  discovery  and  again  retreated. 


BLUE  HILLS.  71 

My  second  encounter  with  this  damsel,  inspired  me 
with  considerable  interest :  there  was  a  certain  grace  and 
style  about  her,  which,  in  spite  of  the  affectation  conspicu- 
ous in  her  manner,  was  by  no  means  unpleasing.  I  was 
sorry  that  I  had  answered  with  a  familiarity  that  might 
have  caused  surprise,  wondered  whether  she  thought  I 
might  have  offered  her  Sunset,  and  did  not  cease  to 
ponder  the  subject  till  I  came  in  sight  of  Blue  Hills. 


CHAPTER   VnX 


t  SCENE  of 
hour  of  the 


confusion  presented  itself,  at  that 
hour  of  the  morning  that  I  rode  into  the  spa- 
cious gateway  of  Mr.  Shaker's  lawn.  A  pile 
which  at  a  little  distance  was  oi  an  indescribable  shape, 
and  of  an  indistinguishable  color,  rose  on  the  planks  at 
the  back  of  the  house,  while  the  figures  of  Mr.  Shaker, 
Mrs.  Judson,  and  Sally  Bunn,  ranged  to  and  fro  alter- 
nately ;  a  fourth,  which  it  was  easy  to  recognize  as 
Singular  Twist,  remained  half-way  between,  in  a  station- 
ary position. 

When  I  entered  the  yard  I  perceived  the  pile  to  consist 
of  Mr.  Shaker's  books  and  furniture,  sent  down  by  me 
from  Caney  Fork.  Mr.  Shaker  expressed  his  warm  in- 
debtedness to  me  in  a  manner  that  left  no  doubt  of  his 
sincerity.  As  soon  as  I  had  an  opportunity  I  put  a 
question  to  Mrs.  Judson  relating  to  Tomhn's  weKare. 

"Hain't  seen  nor  heerd  nawthin  of  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Judson  in  astonishment. 

"  Then  I  must  institute  a  search,"  I  said,  "but  first  tell 
Sally  to  get  me  some  breakfast;  I  came  from  Caney  Fork 
fasting." 


72  RENSHAWE. 

"  Hain't  none  of  us  had  breakfast,"  said  Mrs.  Judson, 
"  ben  all  the  mornin'  gettin  in  the  books.  Sing'lar  had 
his'n  I  reckon  ;  I  seed  him  a  cunjerin'  about  with  toast 
and  hot  water  this  mornin." 

IVIrs.  Judson  led  the  way  within  the  house  and  placed 
the  viands  on  the  table.     Twist  followed  meekly. 

"  TMien  did  the  books  come,  Singular  ?"  I  inquired. 

"Bout  middle  o'  the  night,"  said  Singular;  "I  heer'd 
wheels  a  roUin'  and  looked  out  o'  the  winder  and  tole  'em 
not  to  make  no  noise.  I  was  feer  d,  if  ]\Ir.  Shaker'd 
know'd  it  was  the  books,  he'd  a  histed  us  all  out  o'  bed 
to  go  out  there  an*  tote  'em  all  in.  Lor' !  what  a  job — 
wud  a-tuk  till  mornin'." 

"  I  heerd  'em  bangin'  to  get  in,"  said  Mrs.  Judson, 
"  and  I  shed  a  gone  down,  but  you  was  a  yawpin'  to  *em 
out  the  winder,  an'  I  expected  you'd  go  down  and  let  'em 
in  every  minit.  Ef  I'd  a  know'd  it  was  the  books,  I  shed 
a-had  all  hands  out  to  fetch  'em  in  I  can  tell  you  ;  most 
ruined  them  marble  an'  vellum  kivers  lyin'  out  all  night 
in  the  damp.  Heerd  you  a  tellin'  'em  to  dump  'em  right 
down  back  o'  the  house  ;  thort  it  must  be  a  load  o'  stuns 
they'd  ben  cartin'." 

"Wal  thar,  needn't  be  shoutin'  July.  ]\Ii'  Shaker's 
clus  by;  needn't  tell  what  I  said  to  'em." 

"  Sent  'em  clar  back  to  Caney  Fork  without  anythin' 
to  eat ;  oh  you  did,  Sing'lar,  you  turned  'em  off,  and  I 
heerd  'em  say  suthin'  about  stayin'  all  night." 

"Shar!  that  was  only  one  man  they  wanted  to 
stay — did  stay  too — all  night." 

"  Staid  !  whar  on  airth — how  did  he  get  in  ?" 

"  Didn't  get  in,"  said  Singular,  gi-owing  more  energetic 
as  he  saw  IMi\  Shaker  retreating  toward  the  beloved  pile  ; 
"  tole  'em  to  put  him  in  the  granary.  He  was  hurt,  that 
ar'  Tomlin  that  was  round  a  few  days  ago." 

"Sing'lar!"   Mi*s.    Judson's  voice  outdid  itself — "you 


BLUE  HILLS. 


73 


don't  mean  to  say  you  cudn't  git  out  o'  bed  to  open  the 
door  for  a  poor  wounded  dying  man?  You  needn't  try 
to  keep  me  still!     Don't  car  ef  Mr.  Shaker  does  hear." 

"  Singular,"  I  added,  reproachfully,  "  you  cannot  mean, 
I  trust,  for  the  sake  of  humanity,  that  you  left  him  all 
night  alone  in  the  granary  ;  he  may  be  dead  fi'om  starva- 
tion and  suffering." 

"  Won't  starve,"  said  Singular,  testily  ;  "  I  toted  out  a 
big  pitcher  o'  toast  water  to  him  this  momin',  in  the 
middle  of  all  the  worry  over  the  books  ;  didn't  know 
'twas  Tomlin  till  to-day,  and  didn't  know  anything  ailed 
him  ;  men  said  he  wanted  to  stay  aU  night,  an'  I  said, 
stay  in  the  granary.  I'U  go  out  agin  now,  ef  you  say  so." 
"No  you  needn't,  Sing'lar,— wouldn't  get  there  tiU 

Christmas "    I  stopped  IMrs.  Judson   at  the   door. 

*'  I'll  go  first, — which  way  is  it  ?" 

The  housekeeper  pointed,  and  I  followed  her  direction. 
There  was  a  rusty  lock  on  the  door,  which  had  been 
broken,  probably  by  Tomlin's  escort.  The  place  was 
nearly  choked  up  with  old  barrels,  and  dim  with  cob- 
webs; and  the  scamper  that  took  place  among  the  rats 
on  my  entrance  indicated  that  they  had  been  flourish- 
ing there  for  several  generations.  The  bed  consisted  of 
the  same  sheaf  of  straw,  one  or  two  ragged  horse-blank- 
ets, and  the  sheep-skins  which  had  appertained  to  the 
sawhorses  and  accompanied  the  commencement  of  the 
adventurous  expedition  to  Caney  Fork.  The  pitcher  of 
toast-water  stood  by  the  bedside  unmolested.  Tomlin 
was  lying  with  his  right  arm  bent  back  under  his  head 
in  Heu  of  a  pillow,  in  which  article  the  bed  was  deficient. 
When  he  saw  who  had  entered  he  turned  his  face  sullenly 
to  the  wall  without  speaking. 

"  How  do  you  feel,  ]\Ir.  Tomlin?"  I  asked. 
"  Very  miserable,  thank  you,"  he  rephed. 
Seeing  that  he  was  alive,  and  rather  daunted  to  find 


74  RENSHAWE. 

that  his  misery  was  attributed  to  me,  I  T\dthdrew  from 
the  gTanary  to  appeal  to  Mr.  Shaker,  who  was  inspecting 
the  diminished  pile  through  his  spectacles.  As  soon  as 
I  could  disengage  his  attention  from  the  condition  of  his 
library  I  made  my  request. 

"  A  room  for  a  wounded  man  !  My  dear  child,  how  can 
you  ask  such  a  question  ?  Certainly — the  best  room  in 
the  house  is  at  his  disposal.  Let  JuHa  get  it  ready,  and 
Singular  must  take  care  of  him.  I'm  very  busy  now,  so 
I  will  arm  you  with  carte  blanche." 

jSIrs.  Judson  only  awaited  this  permission.  "Go  call 
Sing'lar,  SaUy,"  she  shouted,  "and  then  run  up  to  my 
room  for  intment  and  bandages.  S'pose  I  can't  get  IMr. 
Shaker  to  speak  ef  I  ask  for  one  of  his  shii-ts,  so  I'll 
take  it  an'  sa}^  nothin'.  Come,  Sing'lar,  got  to  get  Tom- 
Im  into  the  house,  right  off." 

Singular  groaned  at  the  prospect,  and  by  the  time  ^Irs. 
Judson  had  called  him  seven  times  from  the  granary,  I 
saw  him  move  towards  that  building.  The  transporta- 
tion was  effected  by  dint  of  her  strenuous  admonitions 
all  the  way.  She  came  down  at  last,  wiping  her  face,  and 
after  informing  Mr.  Shaker  several  times  that  breakfast 
was  ready,  placed  a  chair  for  me  at  the  table. 

" Coffee's  cold,  rU  heat  it  over,"  said  she;  "Mr.  Sha- 
ker won't  eat  or  speak  while  the  books  is  out  thar.  Dear, 
I'd  rather  hev  kerried  Tomlin  aU  the  way  alone  than  hev 
hollered  so  at  Sing'lar.  He  wanted  to  set  down  every  few 
steps." 

"  Is  Tomhn  very  ill,  Mrs.  Judson  ?" 
""Wonerful    weak.      Sing'lar's   a-washin'    him    now. 
Took  fifteen  minutes  on  his  face — don't  know  when  he'll 
get  through.     Guess  I'U  hev  to  ketch  a  chicken  and  make 
some  broth." 

By  a  small  bribe  sent  to  Singular,  thus  matching  his 
avarice  against  his  laziness,  I  found  the  former  to  over- 


BLUE   HILLS.  75 

come  so  far  that  he  finished  his  attentions  to  the  pa- 
tient in  something  less  than  an  hour.  The  housekeeper 
and  I,  having  finished  breakfast,  and  seen  the  chicken- 
broth' boihng  on  the  fire,  paid  a  visit  to  his  apartment.  I 
ventured  only  to  the  sill,  not  wishing  to  obtrude  my  ob- 
noxious visage.  Mrs.  Judson  looked  around  on  the 
clean,  white  musHn  curtains,  broad  fireplace,  filled  up  by 
two  huge  iron  dogs,  high  ceiling  wide  oaken  wainscot, 
and  the  rough  sketch  of  Moses  in  the  bukushes,  hanging 
over  the  chimney;piece,  with  evident  self-gratulation. 
Her  triumph  was  ill-concealed. 

*•  Guess  you  he\Ti't  slept  in  such  a  magnificent  place  as 
this  'ere  in  a  good  while,  if  you  ever  have,"  said  she. 

Tomlin's  low-toned  response  I  could  not  catch.  Mrs. 
Judson's  reply  was  audible  enough. 

"No  rats!  Course  there  isn't!"  said  she.  "  S'pose 
he's  a-thinkin'  of  the  granary.  Wonder  he  wasn't  eaten 
aUve  with  'em.  Guess  he  ain't  a-dyin'  yet.  Must  be 
hungry  arter  hevin'  Sing'lar  worryin'  round.  I'U  fetch 
somethin'  up  stairs." 

Matters  looked  quite  pacific,  but  the  promise  was  de- 
ceitful. Some  time  later,  as  I  was  mending  Tomlin's 
clothes,  after  Sally's  washing,  Mrs.  Judson,  with  a  look 
of  dismay,  came  down  from  his  room. 

"  Can't  do  nothin'  with  that  feller— ugly  as  Cain— got 
awful  mad  at  me  this  mornin'.  He  said  he'd  kill  me. 
He  caught  up  the  blue  chany  pitcher  off  the  stand  to 
throw  at  me.  Shan't  kerry  any  more  of  those  blue  chany 
pitchers  up  there." 

"  What  was  it  all  about?"  I  asked. 
"  Why,  I  was  a-tryin',  while  he  was  asleep,  to  slip  a 
piller  under  his  leg  instead  of  the  cushion,  but  he  woke 
up  in  the  middle  of  it.  Most  infernal-lookin'  eyes  he's 
got.  Ben  wide  awake  ever  since.  HoUers  "take  care 
my  leg,'  as  soon  as  I  come  in  the  room." 


76  EENSHAWE. 

"When  !Mr.  Tomlin's  gi-uel  was  made  ready,  I  accompa- 
nied ]Mrs.  Judson  to  conduct  the  smaller  tray.  Her  mode 
of  procedure  was  not  remarkably  unlike  that  of  many 
nurses  in  hospitals  with  whom  I  made  acquaintance  since. 

"Now,  then,"  she  said,  "here's  youi'  vittles  ;  if  you 
get  mad  now,  shan't  come  nigh  you  agin'.  Sing'lar  can 
kerry  'em  up,  an'  Lord  knows  when  you'll  get  'em."  She 
seized  upon  a  heavy  d^l  table  which  she  rolled  with  a 
tremendous  noise  to  the  bedside,  jaiTing  the  windows, 
and  causing  the  bedstead  to  shake  fi'om  the  casters  to 
the  cushion  on  which  Tomlin's  injured  limb  reposed. 

"Now  look  out  for  my  leg!"  he  exclaimed. 

"  I  wasn't  within  gun-shot  of  your  leg,"  shouted  !Mrs. 
Judson;  "I'll  leave  it  to  Miss  Eenshawe.  Can't  be  I 
huii:  his  leg  a-lookin'  at  it;  can  it  ma'am  ?  Bed  Hes  on- 
even.  I'll  fix  it  without  stiiTin'  yer  leg,  ef  ye '11  keep 
quiet."  She  pulled  on  the  piUows,  jerked  on  the  bed- 
clothes, and  pushed  up  the  feathers  till  Tomlin's  gi'oans 
obliged  her  to  desist.  Mrs.  Judson  offered  the  giniel, 
propiDed  up  the  patient's  head,  and  was  encouraged  be- 
yond measure  when  he  swallowed  a  few  spoonfuls. 

"  Now,  then,  Tomlin,  ef  ye'U  jest  let  me  shp  this  piller 
tinder  yer  leg — won't  stir  it  an  inch — be  so  much  easier 
than  that  cushion." 

"]Mrs.  Judson,  you're  a  fiend,"  said  Tomlin;  "there's 
no  disguising  the  matter;  you're  a  fiend,  sent  here  on  pur- 
pose to  torment  me.  God  help  a  man  that's  left  to  the 
tender  mercies  of  such  women  as  I've  encountered  for 
the  last  day  or  two.  Why  under  the  sun  can't  you  let 
me  alone  ?" 

"  "Well,  thar,  don't  git  so  mad,  Tomlin ;  you're  a  spil- 
Kn'  the  gi'uel  all  over  the  best  double-chain  coverlid.  Poor 
thanks  we  get,  Miss  Renshawe,  arter  all  we've  done  for 
that  feller — says  all  the  women  he's  seen  for  two  days 
is  fiends." 


BLUE   HIIXS.  77 

I  waited  for  some  minutes  after  Mrs.  Judson  had  gone 
down,  sauntering  to  the  mantelpiece,  and  examining  the 
labels  of  the  phials,  with  the  view  to  invite  a  colloquy. 

"  Mrs.  Judson  and  you  do  not  seem  to  agree  very 
weU,"  I  remarked,  forced  to  speak  first. 

*"  Walks  across  the  floor  so  heavy,"  he  rephed;  "  shakes 
the  whole  house.  "  My  nerves  are  unsettled,  just  now, 
and  a  little  matter  distresses  me  extremely." 

"  If  my  presence  would  not  be  too  intense  an  annoy- 
ance," said  I,  "and  you  would  permit  me  to  carry  your 
food  up  stairs,  and  hand  you  your  medicine,  I  should  be 
very  happy  to  do  so." 

"I  have  not  the  least  objection  in  the  world,  Miss 
Kenshawe,"  replied  Tomlin.  "  Surprised  you  should  sup- 
pose so." 

This  was  quite  amicable.  As  I  was  going  out,  Tomlin 
spoke  again: 

"Do  you  know  where  my  coat  is  ?" 

"Somewhere  below  stairs.  "Would  you  Hke  to  have 
it?" 

"  Most  particularly." 

Glad  to  perform  a  service,  though  it  was  a  small  one,  I 
hastened  up  stairs  with  the  coat.  Tomhn  abstracted  a 
large  pocket-book  full  of  papers,  glanced  it  over,  and 
placed  it  under  his  pillow. 

That  evening,  fearing  lest  I  had  been  officious  in  my 
offers,  I  remained  below  until  tea-time.  Mrs.  Judson  de- 
scended as  usual,  looking  severely  annoyed. 

"  Ef  I  practice  much  more  runnin'  up  an'  down  stairs 
with  dishes,  I  shall  be  fit  for  a  hotel.  Tomhn  won't  hev 
me  fetch  up  his  tea,  Miss  Kenshawe;  says  he  spected  you'd 
come." 

On  this  notification  I  transported  the  tea  things 
directly  up  stairs.  Tomlin  was  faint  and  feverish,  indi- 
cations that  caused  me  no  Httle  alarm. 


78  RENSKiWE. 

"I  wish  to  say,"  said  he,  "that  when  I  am  ill  I  be- 
come delirious  very  readily.  I  beg  you  wiU  promise  that 
if  my  language  threatens  to  reveal  anything  special  you 
will  keep  everybody  out  of  the  room.  More  than  that, 
you  wiU  take  these  papers  from  under  my  pillow  and 
keep  them  until  I  recover.  If  that  desirable  event 
should  not  occur,  you  may  examine  the  contents  your- 
self." 

"Mr.  Tomlin,  I  hope  in  some  way  to  atone  for  my  neg- 
ligence toward  you " 

"Oh,  ye — certainly — don't  mention  it.  By  remember- 
ing my  requests  you  will  confer  on  me  the  greatest  of 
favors.' 

That  evening,  after  the  various  excitements  of  the  day 
were  laid  at  rest,  jVIi's.  Judson  held  a  short  dialogue  with 
me  in  relation  to  IVIr.  Shaker's  latest  guest. 

"I've  an  idee,  ]\Iiss  Renshawe,"  she  began,  '"that  that 
ere  Tomlin  is  a  very  genteel  sort  of  a  feUer." 

Some  such  idea  had  already  occurred  to  me.  I  inquired 
the  grounds  of  it. 

"^Tiy,  in  the  fust  place,  I  believe  he  fairly  despises 
every  soul  in  this  house." 

I  did  not  look  upon  this  as  a  particular  proof  of  gen- 
tihty,  but  with  ^Ii's.  Judson  it  went  a  great  way. 

"  Despises  us  aU — maybe  not  you,  IMiss  Renshawe,  though 
he  don't  seem  to  Hke  you  much — but  he  acts,  while  we're 
'round,  as  though  he  only  stood  us  because  he  can't  help 
himself.  That's  a  wonderful  dingy-lookin'  ring  he  wears 
on  his  Httle  finger.  I  asked  him  if  I  shouldn't  scour  it 
up,  an'  he  said  no;  an'  I  asked  him  whar  he  got  it,  an' 
how  much  it  cost,  an'  he  said  I  bothered  him  to  death. 
Don't  make  any  bones  about  speakin'  when  he's  both- 
ered." 

About  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  when  the  doctor  had 
gone  away,  and  Mrs.  Judson  had  paid  what  I  supposed 


BLUE  HILLS.  79 

her  final  visit  to  the  sick-room,  I  asked  her  how  TomUn 
was.     She  shook  her  head. 

"  He's  a  pretty  sick  man — seemed  a  little  flighty  arter 
wakin  up — thort  EHsha  was  here.  Sing'lar's  a-goin'  to 
stay  thar  to-night.  Says  he  ken  keep  awake  enough  to 
give  him  his  medicine — doctor's  left  stuff  for  him  every 
three  houi'S." 

The  next  morning  I  learned  from  SaUy  that  Mrs.  Jud- 
son  had  been  up  all  night  herself,  and  in  no  Httle  anxiety 
awaited  her  appearance  to  learn  the  true  state  of  affairs. 
Mrs.  Judson  presented  herself  with  the  jaded  look  that 
would  naturally  result  from  along  day's  work  and  a  night's 
vigil.  She  said  on  going  to  Tomlin's  room  about  twelve 
o'clock,  she  had  found  Singular  nodding  in  his  chair  with 
the  newspaper  aU  on  fire  in  his  hands.  He  was  sure  he 
had  given  the  medicine  punctually  at  eleven,  but  as  Mrs. 
Judson  saw  that  the  phials  were  full,  and  likely  to  stay 
so,  she  sent  Singular  to  bed  and  took  his  place  for  the 
night.  She  reported  Tomhn  worse,  and  dispatched  SaUy 
for  the  doctor. 

That  gentleman  pronounced  Tomhn  dangerously  iU, 
and  left  a  drug  to  be  administered  every  hour,  ordered 
perfect  quiet  in  his  room,  and  to  effect  that  end  forbade 
everybody  to  enter  with  the  exception  of  Singular  Twist. 

"  Sing'lar's  nicely  fixed  now,"  said  Mrs.  Judson  to  me 
when  the  day  had  worn  on,  and  nothing  was  heard  from 
the  second  story.  "  He's  got  the  almanac  and  a  paper  of 
tobaccy,  and  sets  there  by  the  window  with  nawthin'  to 
do." 

"  I  wonder  how  Tomhn  likes  him  ?"  I  remarked. 

"  Don't  know.  He  says  to  me  this  mornin*,  '  Isn't  that 
Sing'lar  Twist  rather  a  slow  sort  of  a  feller  ?'     Ain't  but 

jest  found  it  out.     'Twas  curris  he  hadn't.     I  tole  him 

^^ "  * 

so. 

Not  daring  to  violate  the  doctor's  express  injunction,  I 


80  RENSHAWE. 

had  wandered  by  the  closed  door  of  the  sick-room  sev- 
eral times  in  the  course  of  the  day.  Just  before  tea-time 
I  ventured  in  softly.  Tomlin  lay  wide  awake,  and  very 
restless. 

"You  have  not  been  near  me  all  day,"  he  said  re- 
proachfully. I  promised  to  come  after  supper,  and  hav- 
ing made  sure  that  the  papers  had  not  been  molested,  I 
went  down.  I  had  not  gone  in  because  I  had  feared  to 
wake  him,  for  I  supposed,  fi-om  a  very  audible  snoring, 
that  he  was  asleep. 

"  Laws !  that  was  Sing'lar,"  said  Sally,  who  was  dodg- 
ing about  the  kitchen  when  I  made  this  supposition 
known  to  ^Mrs.  Judson.  "  When  I  kerried  up  the  dishes 
I  hed  to  pound  ever  so  long  on  the  door  afore 
I  cud  make  Sing'lar  hear,  to  come  and  take  'em  from 
me." 

"  Wonder  ef  he  ain't  forgot  to  give  them  medicines  ?" 
exclaimed  IVIrs.  Judson,  suddenly.  "  I'll  go  up  and  look 
at  the  bottles;  thet'll  show." 

The  bottles  were  all  satisfactory.  Later  in  the  eve- 
ning ISIrs.  Judson  reported  that  Tomlin  was  very  much 
worse,  and  owned  she  had  her  suspicions  of  Singular, 
who  looked  rather  guilty;  but  as  he  declared  that  not  a 
di'op  of  the  medicine  had  been  spilled,  there  was  nothing 
for  it  but  to  send  again  for  the  doctor. 

"  It  wiU  not  hurt  him  for  me  to  go  in,  I  suppose  ?" 

"Laws,  no — he's  as  wild  as  a  hawk — ^been  a-singing 
away  everything  you  can  think  on — Portuguese  Hymn 
and  Star  Spangled  Banner  all  mixed  up." 

Tomhn  had  a  high  fever,  and  was  quite  delirious.  He 
addressed  ^Lrs.  Judson  as  his  mother,  and  me  as  his  sis- 
ter, fancied  himself  at  sea,  and  talked  in  a  disconnected 
straia.  Singular's  face  had  assumed  its  meekest  hue. 
Mrs.  Judson  eyed  him  sharply.  ♦ 

"You  might  as  well  clear  out,"  said  she;  "we've  hed 


BLUE   HILLS. 


81 


enougli  o'  your  nussin'  for  one  day.     The  doctor'll  tell  us 
what  ails  Tomlin  fast  enough." 

Singular  withdrew,  speechless.  It  was  not  long  before 
an  ui-gent  knocking  at  the  front  door  announced  the  doc- 
tor's return.  Sally  ran  up,  before  admitting  him,  to  tell 
me  hastily  that  I  was  wanted  below. 

Twist  stood  in  the  sitting-room  with  a  rueful  air  of  ex- 
pectation.    "  Miss  Eenshawe,  think  Tomhn  will  die  ?" 

"  It's  impossible  to  say.  Singular." 

"  Think,"  Twist  continued,  his  heart  palpitating  audi- 
bly as  the  physician's  step  sounded  in  the  hall,  "  that  the 
doctor  ken  tell,  zactly  an'  sartainly,  what  ails  him?" 

"I  believe  he  thinks  it  some  sort  of  a  fever." 

"  I  know — ^but  I  mean  ken  he  tell  what's  got  hold  on 
him  now  ?" 

"Probably  so — I  hope  so." 

Singular  shivered  ;  he  looked  up  at  the  stairs,  then  at 
the  door,  as  though  dubious  which  way  to  go;  then,  after 
clearing  his  throat  several  times,  called  to  the  doctor  to 
ask  a  minute's  conference.  This  was  soon  termiaated. 
The  doctor  looked  a  httle  anxious  at  its  close,  and  after 
a  very  protracted  call  in  the  sick-room,  came  down  to 
leave  his  orders  for  the  night.  He  was  of  opinion  that 
Twist,  having  been  up  all  the  night  before,  would  not  be 
equal  to  the  care  of  the  patient  again. 

"  Don't  think  he  will,"  said  Mrs.  Judson  sententiously, 
"  shall  set  up  myself  to-night." 

The  doctor  left  minute  directions,  provisos  for  spasms 
and  fainting  fits,  which  had  not  been  in  his  programme 
origLQaUy. 

Singular  looked  vastly  relieved  when  the  physician  de- 
parted. Mrs.  Judson  lost  no  time  in  quieting  the  house. 
All  were  in  their  several  rooms  by  eleven  o'clock,  and  all 
probably  asleep.  There  was  one  exception.  I  was  sad 
and  miserable  enough  under  a  new  sensation.  How 
4* 


82  RENSHAWE. 

much  of  Tomlin's  illness  was  due  to  my  negligence  of  him, 
I  could  not  determine.  How  strangely  thoughtless  I  had 
been  not  to  take  him  back,  and  put  him  under  some 
proper  shelter  before  proceeding  to  Caney  Fork.  Then 
I  should  have  nothing  now  with  which  to  reproach  my- 
self. 

I  had  been  sitting  a  long  time  by  the  window — ever 
since  I  came  to  my  room,  revolving  the  interest  that 
attached  to  a  man  who  was  a  few  days  before  a  total 
stranger,  reproaching  myseK  keenly,  and  wondering 
whether  I  could  be  happy  again  if  he  should  die.  It 
grew  late.  There  was  no  sound  or  sign  fi'om  his  room, 
and  I  softly  descended. 

A  low  fire  was  just  dying  away  on  the  hearth.  IMrs. 
Judson  lay  back  on  three  chairs  fast  asleep.  The  poor 
woman  was  overcome  with  weariness.  Toralin's  head  had 
fallen  off  the  pillow,  and  I  saw  that  he  was  in  a  heavy 
swoon.  How  long  he  had  lain  there  it  was  imjDOSsible  to 
say. 

A  vigorous  apphcation  of  cold  water  and  brandy  soon 
brought  him  to  himself.  As  I  adjusted  the  pillow  care- 
fully under  his  head  he  opened  his  eyes. 

"  I  think  I  must  be  very  ill  to-night,"  he  said,  faintly, 
"are  the  papers  safe  ?" 

"Under  youi'  pillow." 

"Take  them  away  and  lock  them  up,  if  you  please." 

I  removed  the  pocket-book  and  its  contents  to  my 
trunk.  On  my  return  he  asked  me  to  lift  his  head,  and 
on  my  compHance  swooned  again.  It  was  a  more  diffi- 
cult task  this  time  to  revive  him,  but  it  was  at  last  effect- 
ed. I  trimmed  the  candle,  replenished  the  fire,  sj)read  my 
shawl  over  the  weary  woman,  and  sat  down  again  by  the 
bedside. 

"If  I  die,"  said  Tomlin,  so  feebly  that  it  was  with  dif- 
ficulty I  could  catch  the  words,  "  I  want  you  to  go  to  my 


BLUE  HILLS.  83 

mother,   and  take  her  my  love  and  this  ring  I  have 
on." 

"Where  does  your  mother  Uve,  and  how  am  I  to  find 
her,  Mr.  Tomlin?" 

Silence  ensued,  and  hoping  that  the  query  might  bo 
answered  by  the  pocket-book,  moreover  too  anxious  that 
there  should  be  no  necessity  for  consulting  it,  I  did  not 
press  the  subject.  Tomhn's  face  had  grown  ghastly  un- 
der the  flickering  flame  of  the  candle  ;  his  pulse  was  very 
faint ;  hands  and  feet  were  cold  as  ice. 
"]Mi\  Tomlin!" 

There  was  no  reply,  no  recognition;  the  eye  was  fixed 
and  unconscious.  Salts  and  brandy  were  exhausted,  hot 
flannels  and  warm  blankets  were  applied  to  no  purpose; 
all  stimulants  failed.  A  swoon  like  this  I  had  never  seen 
before.     A  sudden  fear  had  fallen  upon  me. 

"Mrs.  Judson,  for  God's  sake,  wake  up!"  I  roused  her 
unceremoniously.  "  Tomlin  has  fainted,  and  I  cannot  re- 
cover him !" 

Mrs.  Judson  was  at  once  by  the  bedside.  "  No,  you 
won't  recover  him  again,  Miss  Eenshawe.  He's  gone, 
poor  feller!" 

"  Not  dead,  Mrs.  Judson  !" 

"  Yes,  been  dead  some  time.  Well,  poor  feller,  I  hope 
he's  in  a  better  world.  Sing'lar  must  get  up  now,  and  go 
for  the  neighbors.  Don't  worry  over  him,  Miss  Een- 
shawe, you've  done  all  you  could.  I  wouldn't  stand  over 
him  that  way;  you'll  catch  the  fever." 

She  dragged  herself  away  to  call  Singular. 
Tears,  scalding  tears,  fell  on  the  pillow.  Why?  He 
was  nothing  to  me  ;  but  dying  alone  among  strangers,  it 
seemed  unutterably  sad.  Dead !  Good  Heavens  !  what 
remorse  was  tearing  my  heart !  what  a  recollection  to 
carry  through  life  !  It  could  not  be — that  passing  mo- 
ment might  be  worth  a  miUion !     The  thought  made  me 


84  KENSHAWE. 

strong.  I  deluged  arms,  and  hands,  and  chest  with  the 
stimulating  waters,  and  followed  by  severe  and  unremit- 
ting Motion  with  the  flannels. 

"Needn't  say  nawthiu'  about  the  coffin  to-night  Sing- 
lar,"  said  IVIrs.  Judson  outside  the  door."  "  I'll  build  up 
the  kitchen  fire,  and  you  see  that  you're  back  to  help  lay 
him  out  by  the  time  the  water's  hot." 

"  I'll  build  fire  fust,  July,"  said  Singular  affably,  as  he 
went  down. 

"  Laws,  Miss  Kenshawe !  it's  no  use  a-rubbin'  a  dead 
corpse!  The  breath's  clean  out  of  his  body,  and  you 
can't  get  it  back.  It's  most  one  o'clock  ;  we'd  better 
shet  up  the  room  and  go  to  bed." 

There  was  no  limit  to  my  exertions.  !Mi'S.  Judson  put 
her  hand  on  the  white,  reduced  face,  and  tui-ned  away 
with  a  significant  "humph !"  Despair  had  nearly  taken 
possession  of  me,  when  I  detected  a  faint  tinge  of  red  in 
the  colorless  flesh,  and  a  pulsation  so  sKght,  that  I  hardly 
dared  to  trust  it. 

"  IMrs.  Judson !"  I  cried,  "  his  heart  is  beating ! — come 
back — for  heaven's  sake  let  us  save  his  hfe !" 

Mi's.  Judson  was  incredulous.  "  I'll  shake  his  leg ; 
that'll  show  fast  enough."  She  gave  a  ruthless  pull  on 
the  cushion.  Tomlin  gasped  faiutly  and  haK  opened  his 
eyes. 

"  Lord,  he  is  alive,  as  true  as  I'm  a  sinner  ! — Sing'lar ! 
Sing'lar !  fetch  all  the  hartshorn  —  quick !  whar's  the 
camphor.  Sing'lar,  holler  for  SaUy  and  Mr.  Shaker — all 
hands  aboard  now." 

The  room  was  soon  a  scene  of  confusion.  For  a  long 
time,  in  spite  of  unremitting  efforts,  the  balance  seemed 
wavering  between  life  and  death. 

"  Oh,  he  is  certainly  reviving,"  said  !Mr.  Shaker,  in  ans- 
wer to  my  tremulous  question.  "  He  opens  his  eyes  you 
see,  and  has  quite  a  color.     How  do  you  feel  now,  my  boy  ?" 


BLUE  HILLS. 


85 


"Fell  amidships,"  murnnired  Tomlin. 

"Well,  you  ain't  dead  yet,  if  you  did,"  said  Mrs.  Jud- 
son;  "to-morrow  you'll  be  all  alive,  and  cross  as  thun- 
der.'' 

"SheU  I  set  up  here  the  rest  o'  the  night?"  asked 

Singular  feebly. 

"No,  you  jest  git  to  bed,"  replied  the  housekeeper, 
"you've  most  killed  the  man,  an'  ain't  satisfied  now." 

"  JuHa,  JuHa,"  said  IVIr.  Shaker  gently,  "it  is  not  kind 
to  speak  so ;  Singular  has  been  attending  here  aU  day, 
remember.  If  my  own  strength  would  permit,  I  would 
stay  here  to-night,— and  you,  my  dear  Louisa,  look  very 
much  in  need  of  rest." 

"I  am  quite  strong,"  said  I,  "and  whoever ^ stays,  I 
shall  not  dare  to  leave  this  room  again  to-night." 

"Well,  my  child,"  said  Mr.  Shaker  approvingly,  "I 
leave  the  man  in  good  hands,  certainly.  My  room  is 
across  the  hall,  and  should  you  need  help,  you  can  caU 
me.     I  would  not  like  to  have  Singular  disturbed  agam." 

All  withdrew  but  Mrs.  Judson,  who  remained  to  confide 
the  indignation  aroused  by  this  late  charge.  "Never  in 
my  Hfe,"  said  she,  "did  I  see  a  man  so  wizened  as  Mr. 
Shaker  is  by  Sing'lar.  Ef  Sing'lar  says  black  is  white, 
IVIr.  Shaker  swaUers  it  whole.  'Tendin'  here  aU  day! 
Shed  think  he  had!   I'll  hev'  that  business  clared  up  to- 


morrow " 


With  this  declaration  the  housekeeper  gathered  up  her 
shawl  and  withdrew. 

AU  that  I  had  undergone  that  night  in  anticipation  of 
Tomhn's  death,  was  painfuUy  present  to  my  mind.  The 
experience  of  the  last  few  hours  had  done  the  work  of  a 
year.  To  be  sure  that  that  man  would  hve,  I  could  have 
been  equal  to  anything  —  could  have  confronted  any 
danger.  I  hardly  knew  myself.  With  only  one  thought, 
one  prayer,  that  he  might  recover,  I  shielded  the  hght 


86  KENSHAWR 

from  his  half-opened  eyes,  and  motionless  as  the  death  I 
dreaded,  with  every  nerve  suspended,  watched  over  the 
unconscious  soul  till  the  gray  dawn  came  again  over  the 
hills. 


CHAPTER    IX. 


'NEEGETICALLY  did  Mrs.  Judson  assail  the 
doctor,  to  know  what  it  could  be  that  wrought 
such  a  chajige  in  Tomlin's  condition  the  evening 
before.  That  gentleman  was  non-committal.  In  spite  of 
all  her  manoemTes,  surmises  and  innuendoes,  nothing 
could  be  extracted  beyond  the  satisfactory  information, 
that  the  patient  was  better. 

The  doctor  did  not  manifest  the  same  reticence  toward 
me,  but,  while  weighing  some  drugs  at  the  table,  informed 
me  that  Singular  had  forgotten  to  give  any  medicine 
throughout  the  day,  and,  thinking  to  repair  the  damage, 
had  administered,  just  at  evening,  twelve  table-spoon- 
fuls of  one  dose,  and  half  a  dozen  of  another,  not  to 
speak  of  six  pills,  all  at  once.  He  had  not  told  the  doc- 
tor through  any  compunctions  on  Tomlin's  account ;  but, 
fearing  that  the  physician  would  see  thi'ough  his  clumsi- 
ness, had  entreated  him  to  keep  the  matter  from  IVIrs. 
Judson's  knowledge. 

I  was  vastly  reheved,  and  in  view  of  my  late  distress 
was  less  severe  on  the  real  culprit  than  I  might  have  been. 

"  And  how  is  the  patient  ?" 

"Mind's  a  Httle  disordered  yet;  but  to-day  will  de- 
cide. Well,"— walking  up  to  Tomlin— "how  do  you  feel, 
young  gentleman  ?    Is  your  room  comfortable  ?  " 

"  So  many  bii'ds  here  ;  they  are  flying  all  over  every- 
thing— annoy  me  terribly." 


BLUE  HILLS. 


87 


The  doctor  struck  at  the  imaginary  plumes  with  his 
handkerchief.     Tomlin  laughed  quietly. 

"Ha!  ha!  you  don't  suppose  they'U  let  you  catch  them, 
do  you  ?  They're  not  such  fools.  I  haven't  seen  you  be- 
fore.    Are  you  the  boatswain  ?" 

"Doing  finely,"  said  the  doctor  to  me.  "I'll  look  in 
again  this  evening.     Good  morning." 

That  day  but  little  progress  was  visible.  The  next 
morning  IVIrs.  Judson  woke  me  at  breakfast  time,  with 
good  news.  Tomhn  was  so  much  better— had  been  con- 
versing with  her  as  rationally  as  anybody  could.  She 
had  carried  up  several  pieces  of  the  beloved  blue  china 
with  his  breakfast,  pitcher  included,  and  had  been  enter- 
taining him  with  its  whole  history,  from  the  time  it  had 
first  come  into  the  late  Mrs.  Shaker's  possession. 

Immediately  after  breakfast  I  saUied  up  to  Mr.  Tom- 
lin's  room.  The  report  was  verified.  He  was  a  httle 
restless ;  but  his  eye  was  clear  and  calm. 

"Judson  says  I  died  last  Sunday  night,"  he  remarked, 
on  seeing  who  had  entered;  "I  suppose  it's  true,  as  you 
have  spirited  away  my  pocket-book." 

I  announced  the  safety  of  the  pocket-book,  promised  to 
restore  it,  and  stated  that  the  contents  were  untouched,  in 
spite  of  his  supposed  decease.  Tomlin  waited  with  the 
utmost  impatience  till  I  had  finished  speaking,  and  called 
at  the  top  of  his  voice  for  Mrs.  Judson.  She  ran  in 
directly. 

"  Madam,  where's  my  boot  ?" 

"  Yer  boot  ?  sets  thar  by  the  fireplace." 

"  No,  no  ;  the  other— the  one  that  was  on  my  lame 

leg?" 

"S'pose    it's    lyin'    among    the    sheep-skins  m    the 

granary." 

"For  heaven's  sake,  get  it  as  quick  as  you  can,  and 
bring  it  right  up  stairs." 


88  RENSHAT^T]. 

Mr.  Judson  sped  away.  Tomlin  betrayed  some  excite- 
ment as  her  stay  was  protracted. 

"She  can't  find  it.  Miss  Renshawe.  Just  open  that 
window  and  see  what  she's  doing." 

The  housekeeper  returned  panting  with  the  boot. 

"  What  on  earth,"  he  demanded,  "  made  you  so  long  ?'* 

"  Only  just  staid  long  enough  to  turn  round." 

"  And  how  long  did  it  take  to  do  that  ?" 

"Takes  some  folks  longer  than  others.  Now  ef 
Sing'lar " 

"  Well,  never  mind  " — Mrs.  Judson  was  just  depositing 
the  boot  by  its  fellow  at  the  fireplace — "  give  it  to  me." 

"  Ain't  a  goin'  to  put  it  on  ?" 

"No  ;  but  I  want  it." 

Tomhn  caught  the  article  in  question  from  the  house- 
keeper's hand,  and  deposited  it  under  the  farther  pillow. 

"  Head  ain't  faii'ly  settled  yet,"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  in  an 
undertone  to  me.  "  Tomlen,  I'm  a  goin'  down  stars  now, 
long  o'  [Miss  Renshawe.  Let's  see,  yer  leg  wants  to  be 
propped  up  a  httle.  I'll  put  the  small  bag  of  hen's-feath- 
ers  under  it." 

Tomlin  waited  patiently  till  she  had  executed  the 
movement,  when  he  immediately  reached  over  to  the  little 
stand  and  possessed  himself  of  the  piece  of  china-ware 
regarded  by  the  housekeeper  with  special  veneration. 

"Now,  Mrs.  Judson,  the  next  time  you  meddle  with 
my  leg,  or  anything  that's  over  it  or  under  it,  this  pitcher 
takes  a  sommersault  into  the  fireplace." 

"  Oh,  Tomlen,  take  car'  ;  j>Ir.  Shaker's  blue  chany ! 
Thar,  I  won't,  shan't  look  at  yer  leg  ag'in.  Now,  then, 
that's  a  good  feller,  hand  the  pitcher  to  me,  an'  I'll  kerry 
it  down  with  the  rest." 

"I'll  take  cai-e  of  the  pitcher  to-day,"  said  Tomlin, 
resolutely,  as  he  placed  the  pitcher  beside  the  boot. 
"  There's  my  property  along  with  my  pistol." 


BLUE  HHiTiS.  89 

"  WeU,  what  shell  I  teU  folks  you've  got  here  ;  a  crock- 
ery store,  or  a  leather  consarn  ?"  muttered  Mi'S.  Judson, 
and  seeing  no  way  of  reclaiming  the  pitcher  she  aban- 
doned the  design  for  the  present. 

That  day,  in  expressing  his  pleasure  at  the  settled  state 
of  the  neighborhood,  ]VIi\  Shaker  announced  that  he  had 
received  a  note  from  his  niece,  Miss  Edith  Launey,  and 
submitted  it  to  my  inspection.  It  was  written  in  a  delicate, 
graceful  hand,  many  words  were  emphasized,  there  were 
several  quotations,  a  postscript,  and  an  N.  B.  The  sub- 
stance of  the  letter  went  to  show  that  Miss  Launey's  sick 
relative  at  Bocky  Cross  was  better,  and  that  if  Uncle 
Shaker  would  send  the  carriage  for  her,  she  would  be 
happy  to  make  her  next  visit  to  him  in  the  afternoon  of 
the  following  day. 

I  was  quite  dehghted  at  this  prospect.  With  a  con- 
genial young  lady,  and,  of  course,  in  some  points  Miss 
Launey  must  be  congenial,  my  own  enjoyment  would  be 
greatly  heightened.  Anxiously  did  I  await  the  next 
afternoon. 

Early  in  the  morning  I  found  Mr.  Tomhn  in  a  great 
state  of  mind.  He  was  very  desirous  to  be  shaved,  and 
wanted  Sally  to  go  for  a  barber. 

"Won't  Singular  do?"  I  inquired;  "I  thought  he 
shaved  you  a  day  or  two  ago." 

"I  don't  want  him  to  shave  me  again.  He  was  three 
hours  about  it." 

"Perhaps  Mr.  Shaker  would  undertake  it,"  I  sug- 
gested. 

"He  did  undertake  it  last  night;  very  kind  of  him,  but 
when  he  had  cut  my  face  in  six  places,  I  thought  I  pre- 
ferred the  barber." 

As  there  was  no  such  commodity  in  Blue  HiUs,  I  had 
thought  no  more  about  the  matter.  Consequently,  on 
coming  in  some  hours  after,  to  inquire  after  his  health,  I 


90  KENSHAWE. 

was  much  surprised  on  finding  Tomlin  propped  up  with 
a  miri'or  against  a  chair  in  front  of  him,  in  the  full  glory 
of  razor,  soap,  hot  water,  and  other  apparatus. 

"  Are  you  trying  to  kill  yourself  ?"  I  exclaimed. 

"  Trying  to  shave  myself.  Judson  says  there's  a  young 
lady  coming  here  to-day." 

"  But  you  are  not  to  see  her,  Mr.  Tomlin.  No  stranger 
will  be  allowed  in  this  room.  You  could  not  bear  the 
excitement." 

"  And  Singular  Twist  says  there's  an  old  crutch  some- 
wheres  around.  I  must  trouble  you  to  look  it  up  for 
me.  I  expect  to  be  down  stairs  to-morrow,  if  not 
to-day." 

"  People  never  get  well  in  this  way,  Mr.  Tomlin,"  said 
I  ;  "  they  begin  by  sitting  up  a  little  longer  every  day." 

"Very  well — I'm  beginning  to-day." 

I  relieved  my  mind  by  a  consultation  with  Mrs.  Judson. 
She  shook  her  head  on  my  information. 

"  He  needn't  be  shavin'  hisself  on  her  account,"  sha 
said  ;  "IMiss  Launey  ain't  the  girl  to  take  to  Tomlin." 

"  What  sort  of  a  girl  is  ]Miss  Launey  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Oh,  she's  curis — wonderful  notional  and  partickelar. 
Now  you  know  how  clean  I  keep  everything  out  here  in 
this  back  settin'-room  ?"  I  acknowledged  the  superiority 
of  the  apartment,  in  the  quality  second  to  godliness. 
"  "Well,  she  wouldn't  come  in  here  without  lookin'  up  to 
the  wall  to  see  ef  cobwebs  wus  goin'  to  fall ;  she  would 
not  set  on  one  of  these  cheers  without  seein'  me  dust  it 
off  fust,  and  she  wouldn't  go  through  that  back  door 
without  gatherin'  in  her  dress  aU  round  her  feet.  She's 
been  all  over  with  her  aunts,  traveled  everywhar  most — 
plenty  of  gentlemen  she  could  hev  married  since  she  was 
eighteen  year-old.  Wust  thing  about  her  is  her  airs — 
she  has  got  the  greatest  sight  of  airs  ;  yet  they  all  seem 
natural  to  her  when  you've  known  he  a  while." 


BLUE   HELLS.  91 

"  Is  she  pretty  ?"  I  inquired. 

*'Laws,  no  ;  nothing  like  so  good  lookin*  as  Tomlen. 
He's  got  a  wonderful  pleasant  face,  only  keeps  a  kind  of 
thunder-cloud  look  for  times  when  he's  mad  or  thinks 
I'm  goin'  to  tech  his  leg.  He'll  never  like  Miss  Edith  in 
this  world  ;  more  dashy  sort  of  a  girl  would  suit  him, 
an'  she  won't  look  at  him  the  second  time  I  know." 

After  this  assertion  of  superior  knowledge,  Mrs.  Judson, 
with  many  a  sigh,  nerved  herself  to  the  task  of  preparing 
a  room  for  Miss  Launey.  She  and  SaUy  labored  all  that 
afternoon  in  washing,  scrubbing,  and  scouring  beyond 
measure.  The  housekeeper  granted  that  the  room  was 
clean  enough  before,  for  ordinary  guests,  but  Miss  Edith 
always  made  a  proviso  that  her  apartment  should  go 
through  a  regular  scarifying  on  the  day  of  her  arrival. 
This  process  was  diversified  by  one  battle  between  Mrs. 
Judson  and  Tomlin,  which  reached  my  ears  below  in  the 
sitting-room.  It  was  soon  adjusted,  however,  for  I  heard 
her  bargaining  for  the  pitcher  again  at  its  close. 

"  Mrs.  Judson,  what  makes  you  say  *  chany  ;'  why  don't 
you  pronounce  your  words  right.     Say  china,  can't  you  ?" 

"  Well,  chany  ;  there,  now." 

"China!" 

"  Chiney." 

"  No,  no  ;  china.  Say  blue  china  pitcher  and  you  can 
have  it." 

I  looked  out  anxiously  for  Miss  Launey's  arrival,  and 
at  sunset,  when  I  went  up  stairs  to  dress  for  tea,  there 
was  still  no  sign  of  Singular  and  his  charge.  Mrs.  Jud- 
son came  up  with  a  pitcher  of  warm  water,  and  presented 
it  with  a  broad  grin.     The  cause,  as  usual,  was  TomHn. 

"  "What  were  you  and  he  storming  about  to-day  ?"  I 
inquired. 

"  Why,  fust  of  all,  he  wanted  his  moustaches  cut,  an'  I 
s'posed  he  wanted  'em  took  orf,  so  I  hacked  right  in,  an' 


92  KENSHAWE. 

he  said  I  spiled  'em.  Next  thing  he  wanted  was  the  sec- 
ond volume  of  that  ar  book  he's  been  a-readin' — Count- 
ess Ider,  and  when  I  was  a-fetchin'  it  out  o'  Mr.  Shaker's 
steddy,  I  let  it  fall  right  into  Sally's  pailo'  soap-suds.  He 
did  storm  away  over  that  like  a  mad  hoss !  Didn't  ven- 
ter to  say  much  to  him  while  he's  got  the  blue  chany  clus 
to  his  head," 

"  And  this  evening?" 

"  Oh — ^jes  now  ?  "^Tiat  I'm  larfin'  'bout,  you  mean  ? 
"Why,  I  fetched  him  some  photygi-aphs  to  look  at  while 
the  book  was  a-dryin;  and  thar  was  a  hkeness  among 
em  of  the  angel  Gabriel.  He's  been  studyin'  it  an  hour, 
an'  asked  me  if  it  was  i\Iiss  Launey's.  Laws!  laws! 
what  vrill  he  say  when  he  sees  her  ?" 


CHAPTEK  X. 


/^ 


jISS  LAUNEY  had  come.  From  my  window  I 
was  her  walking  up  from  the  gate,  noted  that 
she  wore  a  black  alpaca  dress,  which  trailed  con- 
siderably, a  dark  shawl  hanging  from  her  shoulders,  and 
a  small  round  hat  such  as  were  in  favor  at  that  time;  but 
her  blue  veil  was  drawn  too  closely  about  her  face  to  en- 
able me  to  pronounce  judgment  on  anything  beyond  a 
very  graceful  walk  and  pretty  figure.  Singula  r  unloaded 
quite  a  cargo  of  trunks  at  the  gate,  and  Mrs.  Judson  and 
Sally  Bunn  were  soon  toiling  up  the  walk  with  those 
commodities  until  they  were  deposited,  to  the  number  of 
six,  in  the  hall. 

jMr.  Shaker's  niece  and  I  were  duly  introduced  at  the 
table.  The  first  glance  we  exchanged  had,  however, 
been  one  of  recognition.  A  demure  smile  lingered 
around  Miss  Launey's  lips,  and  before  many  minutes  had 


BLUE   HILLS.  93 

passed  she  asked,  with  an  arch  look  at  me,  "  Uncle  Sha- 
ker, do  you  know  where  I  can  find  a  saddle-horse  ?" 

"You  can  ride  Gusty,  my  dear,"  said  Mr.  Shaker,  be- 
nignly; "only  be  careful  not  to  get  on  a  trot,  for  he  is 
spavined,  and  whenever  you  meet  carriages  and  carts, 
turn  way  out  on  the  side  of  the  road." 

"  Oh,  my  dear  Uncle  Shaker,  I  should  die  on  such  a 
horse  as  that !"  Turn  out  for  carriages,  and  not  ride  on 
a  trot!" 

"  Certainly,  dear.  Don't  you  always  turn  out  for  car- 
riages ?  and  a  trot  is  very  ungraceful  for  a  lady." 

"  Thar's  Sunset,"  quoth  Mrs.  Judson,  who  was  busily 
pouring  the  tea.  "TomHn  won't  mind  Miss  Edith's 
riding  him." 

"  "Who  ?"  demanded  Miss  Launey.  A  lengthy  explana- 
tion ensued.  The  young  lady  shook  her  head  dubiously' 
"  Some  wandering  man — no,  I  won't  take  his  horse." 

"  Sho !"  said  Mrs.  Judson  to  me  when  IVIiss  Launey  and 
her  uncle  had  gone  up  to  the  latter's  study  to  discourse 
on  some  family  matters.  "Jest  wait  till  she  sees  him. 
She  hesn't  had  a  beau  for  two  months;  been  a-visitin, 
'mong  her  old  maid  aunts — tell  you  she'll  think  he's  aston- 
ishin'.     Wanderin'  man !     Well,  well,  we  shall  see." 

The  next  morning  Miss  Launey  occupied  in  unloading 
the  six  trunks,  and  as  she  accepted  some  assistance  from 
me  our  acquaintance  progi'essed  quite  rapidly.  She  was 
not  handsome,  but  her  face  could  not  be  called  wholly 
uninteresting.  Arching  eyebrows  and  a  short  upper  lip 
did  not  add  to  her  amiability.  The  eyes  were  very  dark, 
and  in  some  hghts  black;  but  the  smile  was  one  of  the 
whole  face,  and  though  it  revealed  very  irregular  teeth, 
was  quite  enchanting.  Her  manners  exhibited  so  many 
different  affectations  that  it  was  difficult  to  say  which  was 
most  ridiculous. 

Tomlin  had  essayed  below  in  the  course  of  the  mom- 


94  RENSHAWE. 

ing;  but  finding  that  the  effort  had  set  his  wound  bleed- 
ing, he  had  contented  himself  with  the  perusal  of  the 
Countess  Ida  in  the  solitude  of  his  own  room  for  the 
day.  At  tea  Miss  Launey  did  not  appear,  and  though 
neither  her  uncle  nor  the  housekeeper  wondered  at  the 
delay,  I  went  up  to  see  what  had  detained  her. 

"  My  dear  Miss  Kenshawe,  I  can't  possibly  di-ess  under 
two  hours,"  she  said  in  reply  to  my  appeal  through  the 
door.  "  Mrs.  Judson  should  not  require  to  be  told  that. 
Instruct  her  to  prepare  the  evening  repast  at  eight  pre- 
cisely." 

I  retreated  precipitately,  not  without  some  wonder  as 
to  where  she  had  been  brought  up.  This  information 
was  supplied  gratis.  IMiss  Launey  talked  all  the  evening 
about  the  "  Young  Ladies'  Collegiate  Seminary,"  where 
she  had  been  for  some  time  a  pupiL  She  had  recently 
paid  a  visit  to  that  flourishing  institution,  and  her  dis- 
coui'se  relating  thereto  was  all  in  a  eulogistic  strain.  !Miss 
Launey  owned  that  Bloomerism  had  crept  in  lately,  a 
feature  which  she  could  not  regard  without  horror  and 
disgust,  though  her  attachment  to  the  Seminary  was  as 
strong  as  ever. 

The  next  afternoon  as  the  family  were  gathered  in  IMrs. 
Judson's  pride,  the  back  sitting-room — the  housekeeper 
and  I  engaged  in  sewing,  !Mi\  Shaker  discoursing  with 
Singular  of  Gusty's  prosperity,  and  !Miss  Launey  read- 
ing at  the  window  with  her  head  supported  against  a 
broad  white  hand  which  I  had  ah*eady  learned  she  re- 
garded with  much  mortification,  a  clatter  on  the  stair- 
case startled  Singular  into  exclaiming,  "Tomlen's  a-com- 
ing!"  and  that  individual,  shaven  and  shorn,  in  aU  the 
glory  of  a  new  plaid  flannel  shirt  and  black  trousers, 
hobbled  into  the  room  on  a  crutch  which  Singular  had 
fished  out  of  the  recesses  of  the  granary.  Everybody, 
with  one  exception,  was  instant  and  ardent  in  attention. 


BLUE  HILLS.  95 

Mr.  Tomlin  was  assisted  to  a  seat  by  the  dresser — ^pil- 
lows, cushions,  and  footstools  were  supplied,  windows 
were  closed,  and  drafts  regulated  till  he  declared  he 
should  be  killed  with  kindness.  Edith  watched  the  per- 
formance with  astonished  gaze  till  the  company  was  set- 
tled, and  as  soon  as  Tomlin  was  fairly  established  with 
his  crutch  in  the  corner,  his  large  dark  eyes  turned  on 
IVIiss  Launey's  face. 

"  Disappointed,"  I  thought  on  seeing  that  he  looked 
indifferently  away.  I  introduced  them,  perceiving  that 
no  one  else  was  going  to  perform  the  ceremony.  Miss 
Launey's  bow  was  as  distant  as  it  could  be  to  merit  the 
name  of  a  courtesy  at  all. 

"  Thar !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Judson,  who  had  immediately 
flown  up  stairs  when  the  convalescent  was  settled,  "  I've 
got  the  blue  chany.  Miss  Renshawe,  without  goin'  through 
any  college  talk  either,"  and  she  snapped  the  key  on  the 
principal  closet  with  emphasis. 

Mr.  Shaker  entered  into  a  conversation  with  his  guest 
which  soon  engrossed  the  attention  of  both  gentlemen, 
and  monopolized  them  all  the  afternoon.  As  the  subjects 
were  chiefly  scientific,  the  female  portion  of  the  company 
could  only  listen  and  admire,  without  assuming  to  com- 
prehend a  sentence. 

"Tomlin,  ken  I  hev  your  hoss?"  asked  Singular,  pre- 
senting himself  about  tea-time  at  the  door.  "  Want 
to  turn  in  the  cows,  an'  Gusty 's  a  little  lame." 

"  Don't  let  him  hev  the  hoss,  Tomlin,"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Judson. 

"  I  really  have  not  the  least  objection,"  rejoined  Tom- 
lin. Singular  withdrew,  and  on  the  subject  of  the  horse 
IMrs.  Judson  held  forth  all  tea-time.  "  Laziest  feller  in 
the  hull  univarse,  Tomhn.  Jest  wants  the  hoss  to  ride 
down  to  the  corner,  an'  to  the  foot  o'  the  hill  a-drivin'  the 
cows.     'Tain't  mor'n  a  stone's  throw." 


96  EENSHAWE. 

"I  should  think,"  remarked  Tomlin,  "it  would  be 
some  trouble  for  him  to  get  off  and  take  down  the  bars." 

"S'pect  he  gi'oans  every  bar,"  replied  the  house- 
keeper. 

"  Don't  get  off,"  said  Sally,  who  was  waiting  on  table 
with  more  assiduity  than  dexterity.  "  He  sets  on  the  hoss 
an'  jumps  the  cattle  over  the  bars." 

"Lord!  jumps  the  cattle — bars — ^whar  is  Mr.  Shaker? 
SiQg'lar — Sin'o'l-vr  !"  The  housekeeper  upset  the  teapot, 
to  ]\Iiss  Launey's  extreme  agitation,  and  vanished  through 
the  door. 

"Now,  then,  Sally,  you  see  what  mischief  you've 
made,"  said  Tomlili. 

"Dear  me,  Sally,  bring  a  towel,  quick,"  cried  Miss 
Launey.  "  Oh,  shocking;  and  a  clean  tablecloth!" 

When  the  excitement  produced  by  Sally's  revelation 
had  subsided,  which  it  did  not  under  some  time,  and 
Tomlin  had  gone  to  his  room,  while  Singular  was  endeav- 
oring to  convince  Mrs.  Judson  that  the  bars  were  low  and 
the  cattle  agile,  I  asked  iVIiss  Launey  her  opinion  of  Tom- 
lin. 

"  His  personal  appearance  is  very  splendid,"  she  re- 
pHed,  "but  he  does  not  seem  to  be  used  to  ladies'  society; 
his  manners  are  rather  too  brusque  to  suit  me." 

Far  different  was  IsLr.  Shaker's  valuation. 

"  A  very  sensible,  highly  intelligent  young  man,"  he 
said,  decisively;  "modest,  too;  not  the  least  boasting  or 
swagger  about  him.  I  was  only  afraid  he  would  stay 
down  too  late  and  injui'e  himself." 

This  favorable  opinion  went  a  great  ways  with  Miss 
Launey,  though  she  informed  me  that  Uncle  Shaker  was 
an  unsuspicious  man,  and  his  opinions  were  by  no  means 
rehable. 

She  did  not  appear  at  breakfast,  and  the  table  awaited 
her  for  two  hours,  a  state  of  affairs  which  Mrs.  Judson 


BLUE   HILLS.  97 

pronounced  quite  usual  to  Miss  Launey's  visits.  Tomlin 
was  on  the  settle  reading  when  she  appeared,  responded 
to  her  cool  "  Good  morning,"  and  turned  back  to  his 
book.  After  a  meal  which  was  taken  in  a  very  mincing 
style,  all  the  fingers  not  employed  in  touching  toast  or 
teaspoon  standing  off  as  far  as  possible,  and  consider- 
able rubbing  and  wiping  of  dishes  with  an  extra  napkin. 
Miss  Launey  summoned  Sally,  bade  her  "  convey  away 
the  service,"  and  establishing  herself  at  the  window, 
took  a  book  from  my  work-table.  It  was  the  "  Commis- 
sioner." * 

"  G.  L.  Berkley!"  exclaimed  Miss  Launey;  "  What  does 
it  mean?" 

I  explained  to  Miss  Launey  that  the  book  she  held  was 
mine — had  formerly  belonged  to  the  owner  of  the  name 
on  the  cover. 

"  Dear  me !  you  know  him,  Miss  Renshawe,  personally  ? 
Ultimately?" 

"Not  intimately  at  all." 

"  Then,  as  he  is  no  intimate  of  yours,  allow  me  to  say 
that  Mr.  George  Berkley  is  the  greatest  villain  that  I  ever 
knew!" 

"  Why !"  I  exclaimed,  "  do  you  know  him,  Miss  Launey?" 

"  No — at  least  I  have  seen  him.  I  never  as^Dired  to  that* 
cii'cle  of  society  in  which  he  is  supposed  to  move.  It 
may  be  the  most  fashionable,  but  it  is  certainly  not 
the  best.  My  prejudice  against  Mr.  Berkley  originates 
in  his  treatment  of  one  of  the  loveHest  girls  I  ever 
knew."  Edith  launched  forth  into  the  history  of  Miss 
Brandegee's  hopeless  engagement.  "  Her  wedding  clothes 
were  bought,  when  Mr.  Berkley,  in  the  most  dastardly 
manner,  forsook  her." 

I  was  immediately  roused  to  Berkley's  defence,  and  in 

5 

•  By  G.  P.  K.  James. 


98  KENSHAWE. 

my  hands  it  soon  grew  warm.  !\L*ss  Launey  listened 
courteously. 

"Well,  he's  a  splendid  handsome  fellow,"  she  remarked; 
"I  don't  wonder  at  all  you  defend  him;  but  I  must  really 
insist  on  my  claims  for  Miss  Brandegee.  I  knew  her  in 
her  educational  days." 

"  What  ?   at  the  Young  Ladies'  Collegiate  Bloomer  ?" 

"  Oh,  no  ;  in  New  York.  She  was  not  among  my  com- 
peers at  the  boarding  school.  It  was  after  I  had  gi-ad- 
uated.   I  merely  went  there  to  take  lessons  on  the  guitar." 

Quite  a  spirited  discussion  ensued.  In  Berkley's  be- 
haK  my  defence  grew  violent.  Tomlin  watched  the  com- 
batants with  an  air  of  amusement  for  some  time,  and, 
finding  the  point  in  no  way  of  being  settled,  Miss  Laumey 
abandoned  it. 

"  I  am  very  little  acquainted  with  the  antecedents  of 
IVIr.  Berkley's  family,"  she  remarked  ;  "  I  have  been  told 
that  they  are  of  low  extraction." 

"Lor  sakes!"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  who  was  busily  engaged 
in  dusting  the  shelves  of  the  closet,  sacred  to  the  custody 
of  the  blue  china  tea-set;  "I  kin  tell  you  who  they  are 
and  all  about  'em.     I  know'd  the  old  feller  of  all." 

""WTiat  old  fellow  do  you  mean?"  asked  Miss  Launey. 

"  Whj,  old  Jeff  Berkley,  they  used  to  call  him — wasn't 
mor'n  twenty-five  years  old,  to  be  sure." 

"  You  must  understand,  IVIiss  Launey,"  remarked  Tom- 
lin, "  the  adjective  old  is  used  in  two  senses,  one  relating 
to  age,  and  the  other  to  character." 

Edith  took  no  notice  of  this  interposition,  and  jVIrs. 
Judson  continued : 

"Used  to  be  down  round  our  village,  huntin'  round 
thar' ;  had  twenty  different  kinds  of  coats,  and  wore 
white  vests  and  slippers,  and  white  stocekns.  AHus  cum 
to  church  late,  and  kep'  a  smiHu'  up  at  the  choir,  an' 
alius  two  or  three  dogs  follerin'  him  in,  an'  a  gret  time 
tumin'  em  out.     Used  to  get  diamk  reg'lar  three  times  a 


BLUE   HILLS. 


99 


week.  Wall,  all  the  gals  thar  thort  the  world  of  him, 
riinnin'  after  him  aU  the  while.  Never  was  so  beat  in  my 
Hfe,  arter  all  the  talk  thar  wus  about  this  'ere  gentle- 
man Miss  Brandepe  was  engaged  to,  as  to  find  out  he 
wus  old  Jeff  Berkley's  son." 

"You  are  mistaken,"  said  Edith;  "he  is  General  Berk- 
ley's son." 

"  Sartin,  ole  Jeff  Berkley  got  to  be  a  jineral.  Oh,  I 
know,  for  yer  aunt  Launey  had  her  boardin'  house  only 
three'doors  off  fi'om  'em,  in  New  York,  and  we  aU  run  to 
the  winder  to  see  Miss  Brandegee  comin'  along  the  side- 
walk. She  was  so  pretty,  an'  alius  dressed  so  handsome 
an'  fashionable  ;  an  just  afore  our  basement  this  'ere 
young  Berkley  met  her  an'  stopped  to  speak  to  her,  an' 
they  stood  thar  talken  a  full  minute,  an'  I  had  a  good 
look  at  him  ;  I  knowd  him  for  ole  Jeff's  son  as  soon  as  I 
sot  eyes  on  him  ;  and  I  reckon  he  patterned  a  good  deal 
after  his  father,  for  they  say  he  gambled  away  his  grand- 
father's fortin,  an'  was  marryin'  her  to  git  another." 

"I  suppose  you  know  that  the  gentleman  we  have  been 
discoursing  of,  is  in  the  rebel  army?"  said  :Miss  Launey. 
The  information  did  not  surprise  me,  and  I  was  gi'atified 
to  feel  that  it  did  not  materiaUy  affect  my  spirits,  or  dweU 
in  my  memory. 

Mrs.  Judson  regretted  that  she  had  no  way  of  knowing 
the  time.  The  discussion  of  the  Berkleys  had  ended,  and 
Tomlin  laid  down  the  Countess  Ida,  and  looked  up  wide 
awake  at  the  question: 

"You've  got  two  clocks  here,  why  don't  you  keep  them 
running  ?" 

"Kunnin'?  how  can  I?  Never  did  mortal  woman  hev 
sech  trouble  with  clocks.  This  'ere  settin'-room  clock 
Sing'lar  spiled  a-kerryin'  up  to  his  room.  He  got  it  up 
the  fust  par  of  stars  an'  sot  it  down,  an'  there  it  sot  three 
weeks  on  the  landin'  place,  an'  finaUy  SaUy  came  along 


100  KENSHAWE 

in  the  dark  an'  knocked  it  over  an'  broke  off  the  hands. 
Then  thar's  the  hall  clock's  been  stopped  two  years  afore 
Sing'lar  come  here." 

""^Aliy  don't  you  have  it  mended?" 

"  Hev  undertook  it.  Kerried  one  clock  to  Caney  Fork 
myself,  an'  comin'  back,  Sam  Garniss's  hoss  run  away  an* 
dashed  it  out  an'  broke  it  all  to  shivers.  An'  about  a  month 
ago,  an  ole  feller  came  along  with  a  bag  of  tools,  an'  un- 
dertook to  mend  the  one  Sally  broke,  though  I  laid  it  to 
Sing'lar  more  than  Sally,  an'  I  gave  him  harf  a  dollar  to 
fix  it,  an'  he  promised  me  it  would  nin  a  year,  an'  afore 
he'd  been  gone  a  harf  an  hour  it  stopped  agia  as  dead  as 
ever." 

"^Miat  did  Singular  do  for  a  Hving  before  he  came 
here  ?"  inquii'ed  Tomlin. 

"  Don't  know  ;  sot  in  the  house.  Now,  Tomlen,  you 
needn't  go  to  takia'  down  that  clock;  you'll  make  wuss 
work  than  that  ole  feller  did,  an'  then  we  shall  hev  to  get 
a  new  one." 

"You'll   get   a  new   one,   won't  you,   if  this   is  not 

touched?" 

Mrs.  Judsoii  eyed  him  uneasily,  protesting  he  would 
"  spile  the  clock  "  for  good  and  all. 

In  the  course  of  an  hour,  the  clock  was  replaced  on  the 
shelf,  ticking  methodically,  and  though  ^Ii's.  Judson  at 
first  proj^hesied  it  "  wouldn't  last,"  I  noticed  that  before 
long  she  mentioned  the  hall  clock  reflectively  :  "  S'pose 
you  couldn't  mend  sech  a  big  consarn  as  that  is  ?" 

But  as  Mr.  Shaker  had  given  Tomlin  a  problem,  he 
was  too  busy  to  attend  to  any  more  clocks  that  day,  ad- 
vising IVIrs.  Judson  to  wait  and  see  whether  the  little  one 
"ran  till  to  morrow." 

"  Oh,  it  will.    I  know  it  will.     It  ticks  so  nateral." 

I  noticed  duiing  the  day  that  Edith  frequently  strolled 
down  to  the  gate  to  speak  to  the  passers  by,  and  en- 


BLUE   HELLS.  101 

grossed  as  Tomlin  was  over  a  set  of  compasses  and  Mr. 
Shaker's  drawing-board,  his  attention  was  given  to  the 
same  cii'cumstance. 

"  Is  that  3'oun^  ladj  engaged  in  sending  news  about 
the  country,"  he  said,  "  that  she  makes  for  the  gate  when 
ever  a  wheel  rattles  ?" 

"I  presume,"  I  rephed,  "that  she  is  inquiring  about  a 
saddle-horse,  as  she  chiefly  accosts  the  passers  on  horse 
back." 

At  the  table  everybody  seemed  disposed  for  conversa- 
tion. I  began  by  asking  Tomlin  how  he  hked  the  Count- 
ess Ida.  Tomlin  expressed  his  opinion  that  it  was  a  very 
interesting  production. 

"  How  did  you  hke  Claude  ?"  Mr.  Shaker  inquired  with 
interest. 

"  A  very  noble  character,"  rejoined  Tomlin. 

"I  am  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  rephed  our  host  en- 
thusiastically. "  Claude  is  a  pattern,  and  though  duehng 
and  imprisonment  for  debt  are  happily  obsolete  customs, 
I  still  wish  that  book  might  be  in  the  hands  of  every 
young  man  whose  character  is  forming.  Moreover,  capi- 
tal punishment  still  exists,  and  one  episode  in  that  work 
shows  out  the  horrors  of* that  lawful  enormity." 

Mr.  Tomlin  did  not  condemn  capital  punishment. 
Edith  hstened  with  a  very  supercihous  a^'  to  the  argu- 
ment carried  on  with  her  uncle.  From  capital  punish- 
ment the  conversation  went  to  murders,  and  those  within 
the  remembrance  of  the  latest  generation  represented  at 
the  table,  were  discussed.  One,  whose  mysterious  and 
ciniel  manner  had  filled  New  York  with  horror,  received 
some  lengthy  comments. 

"  That  was  a  murder,"  said  Mr.  Shaker,  "  the  perpetra- 
tor of  which  I  never  cared  to  have  discovered.  A  man 
who  would  take  the  bed  from  under  his  dying  brother 
deserved  such  a  fate.     It  was  too  good  for  him !" 


102 


RENSHAWE. 


All  the  females  at  the  table  joined  Mr.  Shaker  in  this 
condemnation.  Perhaps  I  was  rather  the  most  vehement 
in  denunciation.  Tomhn  looked  at  me  duiing  the  prog- 
ress of  my  remarks. 

"  You're  not  throwing  stones  at  that  sinner,  I  trust, 
Miss  Kenshawe,"  said  he.  "IVIight  you  not  do  the  same 
thing  yourself  ?" 

"  I !  Mr.  Tomhn !  What  can  you  mean  ?  Not  to  speak 
of  a  brother,  I  am  quite  incapable  of  taking  the  bed  away 
from  a  dying  man,  and  really  hope  I  always  shall  be." 

"Didn't  you  take  the  horse  out  of  a  dying  man's 
wagon,  up  in  the  \dcinity  of  Rocky  Cross,  and  tell  him, 
when  you  rode  off,  that  you  never  expected  to  see  him 
again  alive  ?" 

This  low-toned  question  struck  me  speechless.  I  did 
not  open  my  Ups  again  all  the  evening.  Miss  Launey 
mentioned  her  wish  for  a  saddle-horse,  and  had  made  up 
her  mind  finally  to  send  Singular  the  next  day  inquiring 
about  the  country.  I  wondered  that  Tomhn  did  not 
offer  Sunset ;  but  he  was  silent.  Miss  Launey  and  her 
uncle  occupied  nearly  all  suppertime  in  talking  about  a 
trip  to  Niagara  Falls,  in  August.  Mr.  Shaker  was  en- 
deavoring to  induce  her  to  stay  1;hrough  the  summer,  by 
the  promise  of  that  jaunt  by  autumn. 

"It's  the  only  watering-place  to  which  I  have  never 
been,"  said  Edith  ;  but  the  great  objection  with  me  to 
Niagara  is  the  expense,  just  now." 

"  Is  it  more  expensive  than  any  other  watering-place  ?'* 
asked  Mi'.  Shaker. 

"  Oh,  yes — I'm  told  so  at  least." 

"  I  have  been  to  Niagara,"  said  Tomhn,  "  and  can't  call 
it  an  expensive  journey — cost  me  very  httle." 

"  You ! "  cried  Miss  Launey,  her  dark  eyes  measuring 
the  opposite  physiognomy  with  an  expression  almost  of 
scorn — "no  doubt!" 


BLUE   HILLS.  103 

"Why?"  rejoined  Tomlin,  "you  don't  suppose  I  go 
deadhead  on  raikoads,  do  you,  for  the  sake  of  my 
beauty?" 

Miss  Launey,  without  answering  this  remark,  pro- 
ceeded to  declare  to  the  table  generally,  that  she  had 
three  friends  who  had  been  her  compeers  at  the  Young 
Ladies'  Collegiate  Institute,  who  went  the  preceding 
summer  with  the  husband  of  one  of  them  to  Niagara, 
and  that  while  there,  without  buying  any  baskets  of  the 
Indians,  they  had,  being  people  in  moderate  circum- 
stances, been  forced  to  expend,  during  the  week  of  their 
stay,  three  thousand  dollars  apiece ! 

"They  must  have  been  drunk  aU  the  time,"  remarked 
Tomlin  nonchalantly.  Miss  Launey  stared  at  him  for 
one  moment,  then  bestowed  her  attention  on  her  plate. 
She  too  was  silenced,  and  Mr.  Shaker  and  Tomhn  dis- 
coursed on  surveying  till  supper  was  over. 

While  the  younger  gentlemen  had  gone  out  to  look 
after  Sunset's  weKare,  IVIiss  Launey  launched  forth  : 
"  Uncle  Shaker,  I  don't  see  how  you.  can  endure  to  have 
such  a  man  in  your  house !  He  is  a  most  unrefined  and 
disagi'eeable  being,  to  use  the  mildest  term.  To  speak 
so  of  my  dear  friends  and  compeers !  Dear  Uncle  Shaker, 
I  can't  repeat  that  horrid  expression.  He  might  have 
said  intoxicated,  if  he  was  obliged  to  say  so  rude  a  thing 
at  aU." 

"  My  dear,  I  did  not  consider  that  rude,"  said  Mr. 
Shaker  ;  "it  was  a  very  natural  thing  for  a  person  to 
think,  on  hearing  such  a  statement ;  it  occurred  to  me,  I 
confess.  He  is  a  very  well-informed  young  man,  and  I 
have  yet  to  find  that  he  has  done  a  disagreeable  or  un- 
gentlemanly  thing." 

Miss  Launey  was  subdued.  "He  has  never  read 
Cooper's  novels,  Uncle  Shaker,  I  heard  him  tell  you  so." 

"  Well,  Edith,  he  is  not  the  only  young  man  who  has 


104  KENSHAWE. 

never  read  all  the  books  in  the  world — gi-and  mathema- 
tical turn  of  mind,  my  dear — I  like  it  vastly." 

I  occupied  myself  throughout  the  evening  in  wi'iting 
to  my  mother,  to  Cassy  and  to  Eleanor  Ostrander,  and 
as  Mr.  Shaker  had  gone  to  his  study,  and  Miss  Launey 
was  reading,  Toidlin  was  left  to  Singular's  society,  in 
which  he  seemed  to  take  peculiar  enjoyment.  Miss 
Launey  was  not  so  engi'ossed  with  her  work  that  her  lip 
could  not  cui'l  whenever  Tomlin's  low  laugh  sounded  in 
the  adjoining  room,  and  once  she  remarked  to  me  :  You 
see  what  his  taste  is,  !Miss  Renshawe !  Uncle  Shaker  will 
have  a  second  edition  of  Singular  here  before  long." 

A  shutting  of  doors  and  general  bustle  on  the  back 
stairs,  about  ten  o'clock,  seemed  to  say  that  all  the  mem- 
bers of  the  kitchen  had  gone  to  their  beds.  As  I  folded 
my  last  epistle,  Edith  remarked:  "If  that  !Mr.  Tomhn 
had  been  anything  of  a  gentleman  he  would  at  least  have 
offered  me  the  use  of  his  horse,  when  I  spoke  of  it  this 
evening." 

That  ]Mr.  Tomlin  moved  directly  into  the  sitting  room, 
as  soon  as  these  words  were  spoken.  We  both  looked 
up,  as  he  hobbled  on  one  crutch  to  our  table.  His  face, 
for  some  reason,  was  redder  than  I  had  ever  seen  it. 

"  Miss  Launey,"  said  he,  "  if  you  will  do  me  the  honor 
to  ride  Sunset,  I  shall  be  most  hapjDy  to  place  him  at  your 
disposal.  I  did  not  make  the  offer  to-night,  because  I 
was  led  to  understand  that  you  had  ah-eady  dechned  it." 

Edith  bowed  coldly,  murmured  something  unintelli- 
gible, and  looked  steadily  at  her  book.  Tomhn  now 
tm-ned  to  me,  and  with  eyes  of  enthusiasm,  though  in  a 
hui-ried  manner,  expressed  his  deep  sense  of  obhgation 
to  the  whole  household,  fi'om  iVIi\  Shaker  do^vn  to  Sally.  He 
hoped  that  no  nonsense  he  had  been  guilty  of  that  night 
had  been  heeded  by  me  ;  he  reahzed  perfectly  to  whom 
he  had  owed  the  preservation  of  his  hfe,  and  was  the 


BLUE  HILLS.  105 

most  gi*ateful  of  human  beings.  He  feared  I  had  thought 
otherwise.  His  warmth  of  language  and  manner  left  his 
sincerity  beyond  doubt.  I  gave  him  my  hand  cordially, 
and  Mr.  Tomlin  and  I  parted  on  the  best  of  terms. 

Edith  had  hstened  to  every  word,  with  her  eyes  riveted 
on  Tomlin's  face.  She  did  not  speak  again  until  she 
heard  the  door  of  his  room  close  behind  him,  when  she 
exclaimed  with  emphasis  : 

" Ride  his  horse  now! — Never!" 


CHAPTER  XI. 


^^TJ^HREE  days  served  to  complete  Mr.  Shaker's  cap- 
f  frfj   tivation.     During  those  three  days  Tomlin  had 

^^  reconstructed  two  silent  clocks  till  they  kept  time 
to  a  second,  solved  a  great  problem  in  trigonometry,  and 
two  in  algebra,  which  had  engaged  his  host's  attention 
for  six  months.  INIrs.  Judson  was  particularly  edified 
when  she  found  that  on  Sunday  morning  he  read  the 
Bible  studiously,  while  Edith  and  I  were  absent  at  the 
village  church. 

Little  as  she  fancied  Tomlin,  Miss  Launey  did  not  favor 
the  signs  of  his  permanent  withdrawal  from  the  sitting- 
room,  shadowed  forth  in  his  visits  to  Mr.  Shaker's  study, 
to  which  seclusion  he  received  frequent  invitations  ;  and 
to  provide  for  the  possibility  she  determined  to  institute 
a  course  of  readings  in  the  sitting-room.  This  proposal 
met  with  universal  favor,  and  Edith  appealed  to  me  to 
select  a  book.     I  mentioned  Cooper's  novels  immediately. 

Miss  Launey  took  exception.  Li  a  family  where  she 
had  once  visited,  the  most  celebrated  of  Cooper's  works 
had  been  read,  and  for  a  month  after  nothing  was  heard 
5* 


106  RENSHAWE. 

but  all  kinds  of  Leather-stocking  pln-ases,  and  slang 
words.  Tomlin  looked  at  her  in  astonishment  on  this 
observation,  and  Mr.  Shaker  was  at  some  pains  to  con- 
vince her  that  her  idea  of  slang  was  erroneous.  TVTien 
I  hinted  to  her  that  Cooper's  tales  were  the  best  calculat- 
ed to  allure  Mr.  Tomlin's  attention,  her  objection  was 
withdi'awn. 

For  several  successive  mornings  the  readings  were  kept 
up,  and  in  the  evenings,  at  which  time  the  housekeeper 
was  most  at  leisure,  and  if  not  the  most  apjoreciative,  she 
was  certainly  a  most  interested  hstener.  Singular  and 
Sally  lui'ked  as  close  to  the  kitchen  door  as  they  ventured 
to  come,  Sally  having  incurred  Mrs.  Judson's  disapproba- 
tion for  a  late  expense  in  the  way  of  stockings,  and 
Singular  having  been  remarkably  shy  of  her  presence 
since  the  night  of  her  memorable  discovery  regarding  his 
treatment  of  the  cattle. 

"  You  were  not  here  last  evening  to  hear  ISIiss  Launey 
read,"  remarked  TomHn,  one  morning  when  I  was  his 
only  companion  in  the  sitting-room. 

"  No  ;  I  was  not  weU.  How  did  she  read,  and  what 
was  it?" 

"■  It  was  the  Last  of  the  Mohicans — might  as  well  have 
been  written  in  their  tongue  for  aU  I  understood  of  it. 
Her  affectations  multiply  when  she  reads — she  hsps,  and 
breaks  the  words  short,  and  runs  them  into  each  other, 
and  has  a  monotonous  tone  enough  to  di'ive  an  audience 
wild.     Judson  sat  here  laughing  in  her  sleeve  incessantly." 

"Ye  larfed  yerself,  Tomlen,  you  know  ye  did,"  said 
Mrs.  Judson,  who  had  just  brought  in  the  blue  china  to 
its  weekly  visitation  of  soap-suds.  "  Lor',  she  never'd  a 
forgiv'  you  ;  she  thinks  hei  readin's  some.  She  practised 
at  the  gret  Institute  las'  year." 

"I  captured  the  book  last  night,"  said  Tomlin.  "I 
must  read  it  over  before  she  gets  in  fi'om  her  walk.     Let 


BLUE  HILLS.  107 

me  see,  where  was  it  Miss  Kenshawe  left  off  yester- 
day?" 

"  Uncas  was  jest  a  droppin'  down  out  o'  the  cave  inter 
the  waterfall,"  said  Mrs.  Judson  ;  "  two  young  ladies 
wus  a  waitin'  thar  for  the  Injins." 

Tomhn  turned  over  the  leaves  leisurely,  and  Mrs.  Jud- 
on,  in  the  midst  of  her  attention  to  the  blue  china,  soon 
entered  into  a  discourse  relating  to  IVIiss  Launey's  past 
history,  detaihng  her  adventures,  admirers,  and  parties, 
with  allusions  to  the  family  idiosyncrasies  generally. 

"  They  wus  all  up  in  a  gret  boarding-house,  up  in  the 
city,  she  and  her  mother  and  married  sister,  and  I  wus 
thar,  a  takin'  car'  of  Mrs.  Shaker.  She  wus  sick  a  good 
while,  and  wouldn't  hev  no  one  but  me,  and  the  house 
wus  full  of  gentlemen,  and  thar  wasn't  many  young  ladies 
thar,  and  what  thar  wus,  wus  larfin  about  Miss  Edith, 
and  makin'  fun  of  her  the  whole  time.* 

"  Well,  all  the  young  gentlemen  thar  hked  her  won- 
derful. Cur'ous  enough,  too,  for  she  ain't  so  very  hand- 
some ;  but  they  all  thought  she  wus  so  sweet  and  winnin' 
in  her  ways.  And  what  does  she  do  but  goes  and  falls  in 
love  with  a  young  lawyer  that  wus  thar ;  name  wus 
GoHghtly.  Tell  you  that  man  wus  to  be  pitied.  Not  a 
minute's  peace  did  he  get.  She  used  to  f  oiler  him  round 
like  a  dog  ;  in  doors  and  out,  and  up  stars  and  down, 
and  to  church,  and  all  over. 

"  Well,  byme-by  one  of  these  gentlemen  in  the  house 
grew  kind  of  desperate.  Name  wus  Delaware.  He  wus 
fa'rly  ravin'  'bout  Miss  Launey — thought  she  wus  so  ele- 
gant, and  so  beautiful — perfectly  divine  ;  kep  a  writin' 
poetry,  an'  a  lookin'  melancholy,  an'  a  wanderin'  about. 
Some  on  'em  thort  his  brain  wus  affected.  Well,  one 
night  there  wus  a  dreadful  disturbance.  ^Ir.  Golightly 
wus  out  that  evenin'  pretty  late,  and  Miss  Launey  wus 
very  much  concerned  for  fear  he  wouldn't  get  any  supper. 


108  RENSHAWE. 

*Now,  Mrs.  Hobson,'  she'd  say,   'jest  let  me  put  down 
some   of  those   fish-balls   to   warm  for  Mr.   Golightlj's 
supper.'     She  wus  alius  a  beggin'  for  fish-balls  to  warm 
for  him,  for  he  liked  fish-balls  wonderful.      Well,   that 
night  she  got  'em;  ]\Irs.  Hobson  put  'em  down  to  warm 
at  the  kitchen  fire,  and  ISIr.  Delaware  wus  as  black  as  a 
thundercloud ;  and  pretty  soon,  when  Mr.  GoHghtly  came 
in,  IVIiss  Launey  she  run  down  stars  arter  the  fish-balls, 
an'  brought  'em  up  herself  on  a  plate  steamin'  hot.     And 
Mr.  Delaware  wus  madder  then  than  ever.     He  waited 
till  ]Mi\  Golightly  finished  his  supper,  and  then  marched 
up  and  iDut  a  j^istol  ball  right  thi'ough  his  head — blew  his 
brains  square  out.     There  wus  the  dreadfullest  commo- 
tion you  ever  saw.     Poor  Mr.  Golightly  was  carried  up 
to  his  room,  and  died  in  ten  minutes.    IVIr.  Delaware  was 
took  up  and  tried  for  murder,  and  sent  to  State  Prison 
for  life.     Don't  know  whether  he's  dead  or  alive  now — 
was  a  wonderful  fierce,  bad  man  ;    ort  to  hev  been,  hung, 
though  he  wusn't,  cause  the  juiy  thort  he  did  it  in  a 
passion  and  was  'scusable.     I  seen  him  ill-treatin'  a  poor 
sick  dog  once,  an'  I  know  I  said  then  that  man  would  do 
somethin'  to  fetch  him  to  the  gallers.     It's   well   ]VIiss 
Edith  found  him  out  as  she  did.     The   business   most 
killed  her,  and  to  this  very  day  she  looks  as  though  she'd 
committed  a  murder  if  any  one  speaks  about  sech  a  thing. 
I  was  worried  when  you  wus  talkin'  'bout  it  t'other  night. 
"  One  would  think  by  this  time  she  would  hev  forgot 
it  most,  ben  so  many  love  affairs  all  the  time  sence.     One 
young  man  went   crazy   and  wus  put   in   the    lunatic 
asylum." 
"  He  must  have  been  a  little  crazy  before,"  said  Tomlin. 
"  Why,  Tomlen,  thort  you  thort  she  was  fascinatin',** 
said  the  housekeeper. 

"  I  never  thought  she  was  anything  else  than  a  com- 
plete mass  of  airs  and  affectation." 


BLOT  HILLS.  109 

"Mr  Shaker  tells  me,"  said  I,  "that  her  stilted  phrases 
were  learned  at  the  boarding-school,  and  you  may  have 
noticed  that  they  are  only  occasional." 

"Thev  are  quite  intolerable,"  Tomlm  rejoined;  I 
don't  mean  her  language  particularly,  but  her  manners. 
I  hope  for  the  sake  of  the  community  at  large,  that  those 
remarkable  compeers  she  talks  about-I  suppose  she 
means  schoolmates-do  not  resemble  her. 

"Some  nice,  sensible  young  gentleman,  said  Mrs. 
Judson,  "  might  marry  her  yet." 

Xomlin  shook  his  head.  "No  sensible  man  would 
marry  Miss  Launey  while  there  was  another  woman  left 

in  the  world."  ,       -r    -•         ^c      j 

"IVe  heard  men  talk  jest  so,"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  and 
married  the  girls  their  own  selves,  after  all." 

TomJin  took  no  notice  of  this  reflection,  and  turned 
back  to  his  book.     The  housekeeper  seemed  uneasy. 

"Ton  wus  disappointed  when  she  cum,  said  she; 
"vou  expected  to  see  sumthin'  splendid;  you  took  her 
for  the  angel  Gabriel  afore  she  cum.  Don't  you  remem- 
ber how  you  had  his  photygraph  up  stairs  ?  Oh,  you  do 
remember  it,  Tomlen?" 

"  How  do  you  know  that  was  his  photograph  ?  asked 
Tomlin.     "  How  was  it  taken  ?" 

"I  suppose  it  wus  took  somewhar,"  said  Mrs.  Judson, 
looking  a  httle  puzzled.  "S'pose  it's  his  photygraph; 
they  sell  it  for  one.  Guess  we'll  hev  the  blue  chany  out 
a  few  days  now,  so  many  folks  here." 

The  blue  china  was  arranged  on  the  closet  shelves 
and  Tomlin  remained  absorbed  in  the  book  for  the  rest  of 
the  day,  to  the  great  chagrin  of  Miss  Launey.  who  insisted 
that  if  people  devoured  the  books  in  this  mdependent 
way  by  themselves,  there  was  no  sense  in  their  attempt- 
ing social  famUy  reading  at  all.  As  Tomhu  disregarded 
these  remarks,  Miss  Launey  grew  quite  displeased,  and 


110  EENSHAWE. 

she  came  down  to  tea  with  a  fro-^ii  on  her  brow  that 
promised  no  amiabihty  on  her  part.  An  attack  on  Tom- 
lin  was  first  in  order. 

Names  were  discussed  all  tea-time  ;  mine  was  admired 
not  a  little,  and  that  of  Berkley,  introduced  by  Miss 
Launey,  was  pronounced  highly  ancient  and  aristocratic. 
I  expressed  my  opinion  of  Launey,  as  a  very  pleasing  and 
attractive  name. 

"  I  think  it's  very,  very  horrid,"  said  Edith ;"  Launey — 
such  a  nondescript  appellation — I  dishke  it  intensely." 

"  How  would  you  hke  Tomlin  ?"  asked  the  young  gen- 
tleman opposite. 

IMiss  Launey  looked  all  possible  indignation  at  the 
innuendo,  and  vouchsafed  no  reply.  Her  intention  of 
never  speaking  to  Tomlin  again,  was  declared  to  me  as 
soon  as  we  were  alone.  I  wondered  ]Mrs.  Judson  could 
be  blind  to  incidents  that  proclaimed  such  positive  want 
of  congeniahty  between  the  two. 

"All  fairly  bewitched  about  Tomlin,"  said  that  respect- 
able female.  "  Sally,  she's  took  to  warin'  white  stockens, 
and  bort  a  round  cum,  and  Miss  Launey — dear,  dear !" 

"  IVliss  Launey !" 

"Why,  yes  ;  ain't  she-  up  now  a-dressin'  by  sunrise 
every  mornin',  so's  to  come  to  breakfast  ?  Didn't  Mr. 
Shaker  say  Hello  to  her  the  first  day  she  walked  in  afore 
we  was  done,  never  knowed  her  do  it  afore.  Oh,  when 
you're  fifty  year  old.  Miss  Kenshawe,  you'll  think  more  o' 
what  young  ladies  does  than  what  they  says.  Ee'lly,  it 
is  a  goin'  so  far  that  I  shall  speak  to  Tomlin  about  it  to- 
night." 

This  resolution  was  duly  executed.  At  midnight  'Mxs. 
Judson  marched  into  my  room  with  a  blazing  candle, 
and  woke  me  from  a  sound  sleep,  to  report  her  success. 

"  Don't  know  what  to  make  o'  that  feller,"  she  said 
grimly  ;   "I  tackled  him  when  he  cum  from  lockin' up 


BLUE  HILLS. 


Ill 


the  outhouses,  I  tole  him  to  look   out  for  his  heart,  for 
he  would  be  fallin'  in  love  with  Miss  Edith  as  sure  as 
I  was  alive.     He  looked  at  me   with  them  percen'  eyes 
he's  got,  aud  says  he  :   'Do  you  suppose   I  can  faU  in 
love  with  Miss  Launey,  while  Miss  Benshawe  is  in  the 
house  ?'     I  s'pected  he'd  say  that,  an'  says  I, '  Tomlin,  I've 
watched  you,  an'  you  like  Miss  Renshawe,  jest  the  same 
aU  the  time,  but  Miss  Edith  you  keep  a  Hkin'  better  aU 
the  whHe,  an'   ef  you  keep   on  you'U  be   soon  in  love. 
Sayshe, 'IVIrs.  Judson,  you're  just  like  a   raven,  croak, 
croak  aU  the  time.'     So  I  tole  him  anyhow,  she'd  soon  be 
in  love  with  him,  an'  it  would  turn  out  a  good  deal  more 
seri's  than  the  Golightly  bisness,  and  Tomlin  said  a  more 
seri's  business  than  that  was  he  couldn't  conceive,  unless 
it  was  a-marryin'  Miss  Launey.     I  stuck  to  it  he  Hked 
her  better  every  day,  an'  he  said  he  Hked  her  less  aU 
the  time,  an'  went  to  his  book  ;  tole  me  not  to  be  pro- 
phesyin'  any  more.     Dear,  dear,  I'U  give  him  up— I'U 
give  him  up. 


CHAPTEB  Xn. 


DITH'S  displeasure  at  Tomhn  was  quite  sincere, 
and  it  was  openly  evinced  on  the  day  foUowing 
that  on  which  the  offence  was  given.  IMrs.  Jud- 
son, who  was  much  addicted  to  smoking,  suppHed  herself 
and  Tomlin  with  tobacco  and  pipes,  and  the  happy  couple 
were  soon  in  the  midst  of  a  cloud  ^ich  rendered  obscure 
aU  objects  in  the  sitting-room.  Miss  Launey  appeared 
m  the  midst  of  it.  Her  look  of  consternation,  as  she 
crossed  the  threshold,  testified  her  disapproval,  but  she 
was  not  long  in  making  it  more  definitely  known. 

"I  don't  know  how  I  can  hve  in  aU  this  incense,"  she 


112  RENSHAWE.  ' 

said;    "tobacco    smoke   is    extremely    disagreeable  to 
me." 

Tomlin  knocked  the  tobacco  from  his  pipe,  which  he 
laid  on  the  shelf.  The  housekeeper  viewed  the  motion 
in  dismay.  Miss  Launey  waited  for  some  time  for  Mi'S. 
Judson  to  follow  his  example,  then  she  spoke  again. 

"Mrs.  Judson,  if  you  continue  to  smoke,  the  whole 
house  will  be  impregnated  beyond  escaj^e  ;  my  clothes 
will  be  all  smoked  up,  and  I  shall  be  unable  to  extract  it 
from  my  hair  in  a  month." 

"Well,  I  s'pose  I'll  hev  to  shut  up  shop  too,"  said  Mrs. 
Judson,  and  with  some  final  pufifs,  very  forcibly  drawn, 
her  pipe  was  extinguished.  "  Dear,  dear,  ^liss  Launey, 
how  much  comfort  you  have  broke  up." 

Utterly  heedless  of  this  reproach,  Miss  Launey  moved 
about  the  room,  opening  the  windows,  and  creating  a 
draft  that  besprinkled  the  floor  with  ashes,  another  cir- 
cumstance Edith  viewed  with  horror. 

"  S'pose  the  fire'U  hev'  to  be  put  out  now,"  said  Mrs. 
Judson;  "never  was  tole  afore  not  to  smoke  in  this 
room." 

Miss  Launey  sank  into  a  seat  by  the  window,  with  her 
salts  at  her  nostrils.  JVIi's.  Judson's  resentment  could 
not  be  smothered. 

"  Is  Tomhn  a-settin'  right  on  the  cheer  ?"  she  asked  ; 
"  I  see  his  elbow's  on  the  dresser;  didn't  know  but  it  ort 
to  come  off." 

"  Come  off  !"  echoed  Tomhn. 

"  I  have  entu-ely  done  with  IVIr.  Tomlin,"  said  Edith, 
with  a  look  of  disdain,  at  that  gentleman,  who  had  not 
looked  up  fi'om  the  pages  of  the  Pathfinder  since  her 
entrance. 

"  He'll  be  glad  of  it,  I  don't  doubt,"  continued  the 
remorseless  Judson  ;  "you've  nearly  hectered  the  Hfe  out 
of  him  now.     I  heerd  him  tell  IMiss  Kenshawe  t'other 


BLUE  HILLS.  113 

day,  you  wus  the  plainest,  humliest,  and  ugliest  lookiu' 
girl  on  airth — all  conceit,"  and  airs,  and  affection,  and 
humbug,  and  big  words,  and  he  wouldn't  marry  you 
^v-hile  thar  wus  any  woman  left  in  the  universe  ;  an'  tole 
me  he'd  ruther  hev'  his  brains  blowed  out,  ten  times  over, 
than " 

"  Good  heavens !  Mrs.  Judson,  what  are  you  talking 
about?"  exclaimed  Tomlin. 

"  I'm  telHn'  what  you  said,"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  bringing 
down  her  closed  fist  with  emphasis. 

"  IVIr.  Tomlin,"  said  Edith,  rising,  and  turning  to  him 
with  a  glowing  face,  "  is  it  true  that  you  said  that  about 
me?" 

Tomhn  acknowledged  it  immediately.  Edith  disap- 
peared with  much  discomposure  down  the  garden  walk. 
Tomlin  reproved  IVIrs.  Judson  in  no  measured  terms,  for 
having  made  him  responsible  for  such  a  rudeness.  Mrs. 
Judson  energetically  supported  her  side  of  the  question. 
She  wus  a-doin'  it  to  save  him — she  know'd  his  danger. 
Tomlin  said  "  pshaw !"  quite  indignantly. 

"  Now  jest  see  how  mad  you've  got,"  cried  the  house- 
keeper, "  and  me  tryia'  to  save  you  from  a  love  affair." 

After  quite  a  storm,  a  compromise  was  at  last  effected 
by  ^Irs,  Judson's  promising  to  let  his  love  affairs  alone 
thereafter. 

"  "What  a  conceited  fool  she  must  thiuk  me  !"  said  Tom- 
lin, quite  uneasily.  "You  remember  what  I  said,  Miss 
Kenshawe  ;  if  you  will  explain,  it  may  modify  matters  a 

little." 

I  found  Edith  on  a  low  seat  in  the  arbor,  quite  pale 
and  panting  with  an  agitation  which  was  not  that  of 
wrath.  She  started  up  as  I  came  m,  and  caught  both 
my  hands. 

"  Oh,  Louisa  !"  she  exclaimed,  "  does  nobody  like  me? 
Am  I  so  disagreeable — so  affected?"  What  can  I  do — 
will  you  tell  me  ?" 


114  RENSHAWE 

"  I  wiU  teU  you  plainly,"  said  I.  "  Be,  as  you  are  at 
this  moment,  natural!  Be  yourself,  and  where  others 
offend,  exercise  patience." 

Edith  was  quite  humbled.  She  asked  my  advice  in 
much  tribulation.  It  was  easy  for  her  to  determine  on 
bearing  no  resentment  against  Tomlin.  After  a  conver- 
sation of  some  length  she  desu'ed  me  to  tell  him  that 
she  was  not  offended;  but  she  could  not  see  him  again 
that  day.  I  let  her  into  the  house  by  the  fi'ont  door, 
and  she  escaped  to  her  room,  while  I  went  to  quiet  Tom- 
lin's  soul. 

At  tea-time  Miss  Launey  was  sent  for  three  times  be- 
fore she  appeared.  I  saw  at  once  that  her  attire  had 
received  unusual  care,  but  the  low  spirits  that  had  been 
dominant  all  the  day  had  left  visible  traces  on  her  face. 
Both  she  and  Tomlin  were  not  in  a  conversable  mood, 
and  for  some  time  the  sole  conversation  was  carried  on  be- 
tween ]\Ii\  Shaker  and  me  on  the  subject  of  a  log-book 
which  had  traveled  to  the  Ai'ctic  seas,  and  on  which  he 
was  quite  intent. 

"My  dear  ]Mi\  Shaker,"  said  ]\Irs.  Judson  when  this 
subject  was  exhausted,  "thar's  that  four-acre  lot  ain't 
been  teched  yet,  and  Sing'lar  was  goin'  to  plough  it  a 
month  ago." 

!Mi\  Shaker  looked  grieved.  "  You  must  remember, 
Julia,  that  he  has  a  great  deal  to  attend  to,  but  I  will  have 
some  of  these  troubles  about  Singular  explained.  Call 
him  in,  Sally." 

Singular  entered  with  his  usual  air  of  repose.  Anxious 
to  preserve  peace  between  the  discordant  members  of  his 
family,  ]\Ir.  Shaker  inquired,  in  a  very  mild  tone,  what  he 
had  been  doing  that  day. 

Singular  had  been  out  all  day  hard  at  work  setting  out 
the  cabbages,  and  making  a  bonfii'e.  Mr.  Shaker  looked 
quite  pleased. 


BLUE  HILLS.  115 

"  Have  the  locusts  come  up  yet  ?"  he  inquired. 
"  Lokists  ?"  asked  Singular,  bewildered.  "  Never  plant- 
ed none;  didn't  liev  no  seed." 

"  I  told  you  to  write  to  me,  Singular,  while  I  was  in  New 
York,"  said  lilr.  Shaker,  gravely,  "  to  tell  me  what  seeds 
were  wanting." 

Twist  grew  quite  embarrassed  under  his  master's  dis- 
pleasure. He  wrung  his  straw  hat  into  divers  shapes. 
"  Wall,  Mr.  Shaker,  I  couldn't  get  no  note  paper  'thout 
goin'  to  the  village,  and  when  we  got  it  we  \vus  laid  up 
on  pens,  and  when  I  got  them  the  ink-bottle  was  all 
dried  up,  and  did  write  a  letter — wus  all  done  and  folded 
up  on  the  mantelpiece  three  weeks  a-waitin'  for  a  'velop, 
and  July  kep  a-promisin'  to  get  it,  an'  I  had  cattle  to 
'tend  to  and  couldn't  get  it,  an'  finally  I  giv  it  to  Sally  to 
post,  an'  she  did,  the  day  afore  you  got  hum,  but  thar 
warn't  no  'velop  on  it,  an'  I  s'pect  it  never  got  thar. 
S'pose  it's  advertised  somewhar  in  New  York." 
"  The  four-acre  lot,  Sing'lar,"  said  Mr.  Shaker. 
"  Wal,  the  plough-share  wus  broke — been  broke  some 
time.  'Tain't  too  late.  Sam  Garniss  ain't  teched  his 
next  lot  to  plough." 

"  He  tole  me,"  cried  Mrs.  Judson,  "  that  that  lot  was 
going  to  grass.  Now  then,  Siag'lar — and  why  ain't  the 
plough-share  mended?" 

"  Took  it  three  times  to  the  blacksmith's  shop  myself, 
and  it  was  all  shut  up,"  said  Sing'lar,  vehemently. 

"  Oh,  yes,  you  went  once,  'bout  ten  o'clock  at  night, 
and  next  time  you  went  the  man's  mother  was  dead,  and 
you  knowd  the  shop  wouldn't  be  open,  and  next  time  it 

was  Sunday " 

"Uncle  Shaker,  how  can  you  permit  these  vulgar  discus- 
sions ?"  besought  Miss  Launey.  Mr.  Shaker,  quite  wil- 
ling to  end  it,  dismissed  Singular,  and  until  we  rose  from 
the  table  discoursed  the  log-book  and  the  Ai'ctic  regions 
assiduously. 


116  rensha^t:. 

"Ef  Mr.  Shaker  thort  less  about  the  Nor^h  Pole  and 
more  'bout  his  own  gi'ounds,"  said  ^Irs.  Judson  to  ^Ess 
Launey,  sotto  voce,  "we  shed  all  be  better  off." 

Edith  made  no  reply.  She  seemed  very  sad  and  re- 
tained her  seat  at  the  table  after  the  cloth  had  been 
taken  away.  As  soon  as  Iklr.  Shaker  had  gone  to  his 
study,  Tomlin  moved  his  chair  across  the  room,  and 
seated  himself  by  IMiss  Launey.  For  some  time  they 
were  neither  very  conversable.  I  soon  saw  Edith's  face 
brighten,  and  after  a  while  she  grew  quite  cheerful,  and 
took  the  principal  share  in  the  discourse. 

There  was  one  soul  that  spoke  very  ominously  in  as- 
kance glances,  and  when  the  young  couple  had  separated 
it  declared  itself  penitentially  thus:  "I'd  give  my  Sun- 
day clothes  this  minit  to  undo  what  mischief  I've  done 
to-day." 

The  extent  of  the  mischief  was  soon  obvious.  IMiss 
Launey  called  me  into  her  room  as  I  passed,  and  talked 
of  Tomlin  till  after  midnight. 


CHAPTER    XIII. 

OR  two  or  three  days  I  had  noticed  a  book  on 
.-^  etiquette  about  the  back  sitting-room,  and  how- 
ever often  it  was  thrust  upon  the  shelf,  or  laid  in 
the  closet,  it  reappeared  unfailingly  in  a  conspicuous 
place.  It  haunted  the  table  where  Tomlin  was  occu- 
pied, sometimes  alone,  occasionally  with  ;^Ir.  Shaker.  On 
one  occasion  the  compasses  were  found  inserted  at  a 
chapter  headed  "  Behavior  to  Ladies." 

Tomlin  had  just  come  in  fi'om  the  garden,  where  he 
had  been  raking  up  the  dead  weeds  for  a  bonfire  which 
pile  SingTilai'  was  contemplating  through  the  smoke  of  his 


BLUE  HILSS.  117 

pipe,  and  looked  about  for  the  problem  Mr.  Sbaker  was 
to  leave  for  his  solution.  Miss  Launey  and  I  were  the 
sole  tenants  of  the  room. 

"  Mr.  Shaker  has  not  been  down  yet,"  said  I. 
«  Very  well,  I'll  read  a  short  time.    Where's  the  Prairie  ?" 
The  Prairie  vras  discovered  lying  on  the  dresser  with 
the  Book  of  Etiquette  placed  immediately  on  top  of  it. 

"  Is  this  treatise  on  manners  traveling  around  here  for 
Singular's  benefit  or  mine  T  asked  Tomlin'  as  he  seated 
himself  to  the  perusal  of  the  novel. 

*'It  is  a  subject  of  the  first  importance,  Mr.  Tomlin," 
said  Edith,  severely. 

A  discussion  immediately  arose.  The  subject  was  one 
which  Edith  had  studied  devotedly,  and  she  soon  grew 
not  only  natural  but  eloquent.  A  lecture  ensued  on  the 
laws  of  good  breeding,  to  which  Tomhn  listened  defer- 
entially. Edith  became  desirous  of  an  answer,  and  pro- 
posed a  series  of  anecdotes,  declaring  that  she  was  sure 
Mr.  Tomlin  would  think  the  examples  of  politeness  they 
enforced  perfectly  absurd.  Tomlin,  quite  sure  of  the 
contrary,  at  once  challenged  the  anecdotes,  and  Edith 
detailed  them  in  full  force,  with  the  air  of  a  woman  in 
her  element. 

In  the  first  place  some  very  great  man,  she  could  not 
remember  whether  it  was  Louis  Quatorze  or  George 
Washington,  had,  while  riding  on  horseback  with  some- 
body else,  met  a  beggar  who  took  off  his  hat,  whereupon 
the  noted  individual  referred  to  took  off  his  in  return, 
and  on  his  friend  expressing  surprise  at  his  responding 
to  the  salutations  of  a  pauper,  the  same  noted  individ- 
ual, whether  it  was  the  king  of  France,  or  the  founder 
of  American  liberty,  replied,  "You  surely  would  not 
have  a  beggar  surpass  me  in  politeness!" 

Tomlin  pronounced  the  answer  very  good— very  good 
indeed. 


118  EENSHAWE 

Miss  Launey  seemed  much  pleased,  and  hastened  on: 
"In  the  next  place,  while  the  Earl  of  Stair,"  (this 
anecdote  I  remembered  to  have  seen  in  Ollendorf's 
Method  of  learning  German,)  "  was  visiting  at  the  court 
of  France,  the  king  laid  a  wager  with  several  of  the 
courtiers  that  he  would  prove  a  foreigner  more  pohte 
than  a  Frenchman.  He  was  to  choose  his  own  time  for 
making  the  trial,  and  one  day  on  going  to  his  carriage, 
with  two  coui'tiers  and  the  Earl  of  Stair,  he  bade  the 
Frenchmen  get  in  before  him.  They  both  drew  back, 
and  the  king  then  desii'ed  the  Earl  of  Stairs  to  enter 
the  carriage  first,  which  he  instantly  did.  The  king  had 
won  the  wager." 

"Very  proper  conduct  in  the  Earl  of  Stair,"  Tomlin 
said,  "  very  proper  indeed." 

Edith,  quite  illumined,  proceeded:  "The  Duke  of 
Bedford  invited  a  French  nobleman  to  dine  with  him. 
The  duke  lauded  a  certain  wine  to  his  guest;  it  was 
supposed  to  be  a  hundred  years  old,  and  a  very  su^^e- 
rior  kind  of  wine.  It  was  brought  on  by  the  duke's 
order,  and  the  French  nobleman's  glass  was  filled  with  a 
Hquid,  very  clear,  and  of  the  color  of  gold.  The  guest 
di'ank  the  wine,  and  pronounced  it  excellent.  The  duke 
next  imbibed.  He  was  in  a  great  state  of  consterna- 
tion— summoned  the  butler,  and  had  the  affair  investi- 
gated, when  the  supposed  beverage  proved  to  be  pure 
castor  oil.  The  French  nobleman  had  swallowed  it 
without  shrinking.  "Wliat  think  you  of  such  pohteness 
as  his,  ]Mi\  Tomhn  ?" 

"Oh,  very  fine,  certainly;  quite  admirable." 
"  The  next  anecdote  is  a  circumstance  which  came 
within  my  own  knowledge,  therefore  I  can  vouch  for  its 
truth.  A  gentleman  hving  in  a  large  village  near  Bos- 
ton, saw  his  neighbor's  house  on  fire  one  evening,  and 
immediately  ran  thither  to  apprise  the  inmates  of  their 


BLUE  HILLS.  119 

danger.  On  entering  the  hall  he  found  the  family  aU  at 
prayers,  and  he  had  the  good  breeding  to  control  the 
first  impulse  of  his  heart,  and  paying  due  deference  to 
the  solemn  occasion,  he  waited  until  the  prayers  were  con- 
cluded before  apprising  them  of  the  conflagration.  What 
have  you  to  say  to  that,  Mr.  Tomlin?" 

"  I  was  a  httle  staggered  by  the  castor  oil,"  TomHn 
confessed,  "  but  this  adventure  fairly  floors  me.  I  must 
own  that  if  it  had  been  my  case,  I  should  have  inter- 
rupted the  devotions." 

"  Perhaps  you  have  not  been  religiously  educated,  Mr. 
TomHn,  and  do  not  attach  proper  importance  to  the  cer- 
emony." 

"A^Tiy,  IVIiss  Launey,"  Tomlin  protested,  "reverence 
for  rehgion  I  certainly  have;  but  this  is  running  the  thing 
into  the  ground.  If  I  found  a  congregation  at  prayers, 
I  would  wait  at  the  door  till  the  prayers  were  over  rather 
than  disturb  them  by  entering;  but  you  can't  mean  to 
say  that  if  the  church  was  on  fire  it  would  not  be  my 
duty  to  go  in  and  tell  them  what  was  going  on  ?  No,  I 
must  say  that  your  last  specimen  was  infallibly  a  spooney." 

"  A  what,  IVIr.  Tomlin  ?  Do,  if  you  can,  use  phrases 
current  in  poHte  society." 

"  Haven't  you  read  Thackeray  enough  to  know  what  a 
spooney  is?     Well,  a  sort  of  a  flat.'* 

"  Oh,  Mr.  Tomlin,  what  horrid  expressions;  and  not  to 
know  of  whom  you  were  talking !  It  might  be  some  of 
my  nearest  relatives !" 

"  You  ought  not  to  make  a  man  commit  himself  blindly 
about  your  nearest  relatives,"  said  TomHn.  "Whose  fault 
was  it  that  I  gave  you  my  opinion  ?  I  really  can't  change 
it.  The  man  was  a  flat ! — a  confounded  flat !  I  know 
you  think  so  yourself.  You  would  have  thought  so  if 
you  had  been  in  the  house." 

"  I  hope  I  should  never  be  so  severe  on  the  motives  of 


120  RENSHAWE. 

any  one,"  cried  Edith,  "  and  after  what  you  have  just 
said  to  me,  I  must  really  observe  that  for  a  man  who 
appears  like  a  gentleman,  dresses  a  little  like  a  gentle- 
man, and  might  pass  among  gentlemen  as  a  gentleman, 
you  have  the  most  impossible  manners  that  any  one  can 
conceive !" 

"  Will  you  be  kind  enough  to  pity  my  ignorance  so  far" 
as  to  inform  me  what  the  adjective  impossible,  used  in 
this  connection,  means  ?     You  must  understand  that  I 
am  doing  my  utmost  to  profit  by  your  admonitions." 

Not  noticing  this  question,  Edith  ran  on  volubly:  "It 
really  behooves  you,  Mr.  Tomlin,  to  learn  by  attention  to 
the  laws  of  etiquette  what  nature  has  not  taught  you. 
Your  utmost  endeavoi'^  vvill  hardly  serve  to  bring  you  up 
to  the  standard  of  decency.  You  talk  like  an  Ethiopian^ 
you  act  in  many  ways  like  an  Ethiopian,  you  laugh  like 
an  Ethiopian !" 

"  You  don't  mea?i  a  nigger !"  Tomlin  exclaimed. 

"Oh,"  cried  Edith,  stamping  her  foot,  "don't  pro- 
nounce that  word  in  the  detestable  style  of  Stephen  A. 
Douglas !  I  do  mean,  if  you  force  me  to  say  so,  a 
negro.  You  talk  like  a  negro;  you  laugh  like  a  negro; 
you — ^you " 

"  Look  like  one?"  suggested  Tomlin. 
"Positively    after   the    manners    of  the    aristocrats 
among  whom  I  have  circulated,  yours  are  very  distress- 
ing." 

"I  must  say,"  rejoined  Tomlin,  with  perfect  compos- 
ure, "  that  although  I  cannot  answer  for  my  manners, 
possible  or  impossible,  yet  in  the  circle  of  society  where 
I  was  brought  up,  ladies  were  not  in  the  habit  of  calling 
gentlemen  niggers  to  their  faces." 

As  society  was  Edith's  sensitive  point,  this  remark  in- 
creased her  excitement.  She  informed  Tomhn  that  she 
had  moved  in  the  first  circles — ^in  the  very  highest  ton — 


BLUE  HILLS.  121 

she  knew  what  was  de  rigueur,  and  comme  il  faut,  and 
la  chose.  She  could  distinguish  a  gentleman  instantly, 
and  really,  she  begged  IMr.  Tomlin  would  not  converse 
with  her  any  more. 

IVIr.  Tomlin  turned  back  to  the  Prairie,  quite  silent. 
Edith's  wi'ath  had  charged  her  usually  pale  face  with  a 
vivid  scarlet.  She  looked  as  though  suffering  with  the 
heat. 

"  If  there  was  anything  in  the  shape  of  a  gentleman 
here,"  she  said,  "I  would  ask  it  to  bring  me  my  fan. 
Louisa,  will  you  get  it  for  me  from  the  dresser  ?" 

Tomlin  rose  immediate^,  took  the  fan  from  ^Mr. 
Shaker's  drawing-board,  and  carried  it  to  Miss  Launey. 
She  did  not  take  it,  and  he  laid  it  on  the  table.  Her 
wrath  soon  abated,  and  I  saw  that  she  felt  into  what  a 
ridiculous  exhibition  its  indulgence  had  led  her. 

After  a  short  silence,  disturbed  only  by  the  turning  of 
a  leaf  in  Tomlin's  quarter  of  the  room,  I  felt  a  hand  laid 
on  my  shoulder.  Edith  so  far  forgot  etiquette  as  to  kneel 
by  my  side,  and  whisper  a  few  words  with  tears  in  her 
eyes. 

"  I  am  so  sorry,  Louisa,  I  lose  temper  so  easily.  He 
certainly  behaves  better  than  I  do.     "What  shall  I  do  ?" 

The  case  was  beyond  my  art,  and  I  would  not  advise. 
Edith  was  sure  something  ought  to  be  done  to  repair  the 
evil,  and  seemingly  struck  with  an  idea,  she  hurried  up 
stairs  to  dress,  and  went  off  in  the  direction  of  the 
village. 

I  informed  Tomlin,  after  her  departure,  that  there  was 
a  prospect  of  apology  and  reconciliation. 

"It  does  not  signify,"  said  Tomhn,  indifferently, 
"whether  we  are  reconciled  or  not.  Her  wi'ath  does  not 
seriously  affect  me ;  and  I  cherish  none  on  my  side 
whatever." 

Edith  did  not  get  in  till  late  that  afternoon,  and' while 
6 


122  RENSHAWE. 

Tomlin  was  busy  over  a  clock,  which  one  of  the  neigh- 
bors had  left  to  be  mended,  eyes  and  thoughts  apparently- 
engrossed  by  the  wheels  and  wires  on  the  dresser,  IMiss 
Launey  entered,  looking  quite  hui'ried  and  tired,  and 
coming  up  to  him  unrolled  a  small  package  that  she 
carried,  and  let  fall  a  roll  of  cigars  among  the  tools. 

Tomlin  looked  up  gravely. 

"  What's  that  for  ?  a  peace  offering  ?  It's  impossible, 
Miss  Launey." 

"  You  don't  mean  to  say  that  you  decline  ?" 

"  I  do,  very  respectfully,  and  most  absolutely,  decline," 
rejoined  Tomlin. 

I  looked  up  in  sui-prise.  He  had  professed  indifference, 
but  resentment  spoke  in  every  syllable. 

Edith  moved  away  dismayed,  to  the  fireplace,  and  took 
her  seat  with  a  dejected  air.  Tomlin's  unflagging  atten- 
tion was  bestowed  on  the  clock,  and  as  I  was  at  the  crisis 
of  Mr.  Richard  Jones's  manoeu-^Tes  with  the  horses,  with 
his  sleigh  half  way  over  the  precipice,  I  was  not  to  be 
diverted.  The  trio  in  the  room  had  maintained  for  some 
tkne  a  dead  silence — the  only  sound  heard  emanating 
from  the  kitchen,  where  Singular  was  preparing  a  Httle 
tea,  which  refreshment  he  took  about  the  middle  of  the 
afternoon. 

I  had  just  discovered  that  nobody  was  to  be  killed, 
and  was  perusing  the  narrative,  under  the  dim  conscious- 
ness that  Edith  was  miserable,  and  Tomlin  offended,  when 
a  crash  was  heard  in  the  adjoining  room. 

"Massy!"  exclaimed  Singular;  "the  blue  chany's 
broke." 

"  Not  the  pitcher,"  said  Tomlin,  looking  quite  anxious. 

"No,"  rejoined  Twist,  in  tones  of  consternation. 
"  'Taint  much  better,  though ;  one  of  them  tea-cups. 
'Twas  full  o'  hot  tea,  an'  I  dropped  it." 

"  Goodness !  what  will  become  of  us  ?"  said  Tomlin, 


BLUE   HILLS.  123 

forgetting  all  about  the  clock.  "  Singular,  you'd  better 
go  and  have  the  plough-share  mended.  Stay — don't  come 
back  till  midnight.     I'll  sit  up  and  let  you  in." 

*'  Front  door,  Tomlen  ;  she'll  be  a  watchin'  at  this  one." 

"Nice  you're  a-plannin'!"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  rushing  in. 
"  Now  then,  Tomlen,  arter  all  I've  done  for  you,  to  find 
you  in  sech  a  conspiracy,  a  layin'  out  with  fi'ont  doors 
and  back  'uns.  Sing'lar — Sing'lar  Twist !  V/har  is  the 
feller  ?"  She  ran  to  the  window.  "Lord  !  he*s  runnin'  : 
as  true  as  I  live  Sing'lar  Twist's  a  runnin' !  Is  the  sky 
agoin'  to  fall,  or  what  ?" 

Singular  had  disappeared  with  uncommon  celerity. 
Mrs.  Judson  mourned  for  some  time  over  the  tea-cup, 
and  Hghting  her  pipe,  her  usual  solace  for  trouble,  she 
hurried  its  odor  away  from  Miss  Launey's  vicinity. 
That  young  lady  considered  herself  at  the  pass  where 
patience  ceases  to  be  a  virtue. 

"Mr.  Tomlin,"  said  she,  "if  you  have  not  quite  ex- 
hausted your  consideration  on  Singular  Twist,  and  if  all 
the  faculties  of  your  mechanical  soul  are  not  too  much 
bound  up  in  that — that  timepiece,  will  you  have  the 
great,  the  extraordinary  goodness  to  lend  me  your  atten- 
tion for  one  moment  ?" 

"  Certainly,  madam  ;  as  long  as  you  choose." 

"  Then,  Mr.  Tomlin,  is  it  your  intention  to  smoke  those 
cigars  ?" 

"  No  ;  I  would  die  sooner." 

"  Die,  rather  than  smoke  those  cigars  ?" 

"Exactly." 

Edith  walked  up  and  down  the  room  in  a  great  state 
of  excitement,  relieved  at  last  by  some  lengthy  communi- 
cations made  to  me  in  a  whisper. 

"I've  been  all  over  Blue  Hills  to  find  those  cigars, 
Louisa,  and  yoa  see  he  actually  refuses  them,  and  cannot 
give  me  a  civil  answer.     I  think  him  very  rude." 


124  RENSHAWE. 

"  Busy  with  the  clock  ?"  I  suggested- 

"  Not  too  busy  to  talk  to  Singular  Twist  about  the  do- 
mestic comnilsion.  He's  very  ungenerous  ;  own  you 
think  so." 

"  He  is  very  good-natured,"  I  replied  ;  "  you  should 
apologize." 

Edith  moved  off  on  this  declaration.  Tomlin  soon 
looked  round  for  a  weight  that  stood  out  of  his  reach,  on 
the  shelf. 

"  jMiss  Eenshawe,  may  I  trouble  you  for  that  weight  ?" 

"  Goodness !"  exclaimed  Edith  ;  "  with  all  your  claims, 
you  ask  a  lady  to  perform  such  a  service  as  that  ?" 

"  I  can't  let  go  this  string,"  said  Tomlin,  "  without 
half  an  hour's  work  in  consequence.  I  suppose,  iMiss 
Louisa " 

I  was  half  way  to  the  mantel-piece,  when  Edith  sprang 
before  me,  caught  the  weight  from  the  shelf,  and  pre- 
sented it.  Tomlin  adjusted  it,  touched  off  the  pendulum, 
closed  the  clock  door,  and  turned  toward  Edith.  A 
questioning  look  at  that  young  lady's  glowing  features  • 
made  her  penitence  unmistakable. 

'•'  What  will  you  have.  Miss  Launey  ?" 

"  If  we  could  be  fiiends  !" 

"  We  can — with  aU  my  heart ;  but,  honestly,  you  need 
not  expect  to  remodel  me;  you  must  take  me  as  you  find 
me.  We  were  brought  up  on  different  theories — we  can 
never  agree  on  our  favorite  doctrines ;  but  we  can  be 
friends  if  we  can  forswear  aU  debates,  and  bury  those 
that  are  gone  in  oblivion." 

Edith  instantly  accepted  the  proposal,  declared  she 
would  never  quarrel  with  him  again,  retracted  her  former 
censures,  and  as  a  final  triumph  made  Tomlin  promise 
to  "  consume  "  the  cigars.  They  should  be  the  seal  to 
their  compact. 

"  I'm  afraid,"  he  answered,  "  the  compact  may  end 
like  the  seal,  in  smoke." 


BLUE  HILLS.  125 

Edith  vowed  and  protested  against  such  an  "  odious 
sentiment ;"  and  the  newly  reconciled  couple  were  soon 
discoursing  as  amicably  as  ever.  I  was  shortly  so  en- 
grossed in  the  pages  of  the  Pioneers,  as  to  be  obhvious 
to  all  that  went  on  for  some  time.  I  was  startled  just 
about  dusk  with  the  intelligence  of  a  new  excitement. 
Sally  ran  in,  breathless,  and  roused  me  from  my  abstrac- 
tion, to  report  that  there  was  an  awful  deal  of  trouble. 
Tomlin  was  looking  all  over  for  the  horses — Sunset  and 
Gusty  both  had  gone  ;  they  were  not  in  the  stables,  not 
in  the  meadows,  no  sign  of  them  in  the  street.  Tomhn 
was  off  at  the  height  of  a  hill  down  the  road,  whither  he 
had  gone  as  fast  as  his  halting  gait  would  allow.  Sally  ran 
to  carry  him  the  crutch,  which  had  been  for  some  time  dis- 
carded, and  Mr.  Shaker  came  down  from  the  study  in 
dressing-gown  and  spectacles. 

Where  was  Singular  ?  He  was  sought  vigorously,  and 
while  Mrs.  Judson  was  shouting  his  name  about  the  gar- 
rets, I  found  him  asleep  in  the  granary,  where  he  had 
gone  to  mend  the  floor.  As  he  ran  out,  hammer  in  hand, 
nobody  could  accuse  him  of  not  having  been  busy.  The 
trouble  was  soon  made  known. 

"Why  upon  airth  wusn't  you  lookin'  arfter  'em?" 
cried  Mrs.  Judson. 

"  Wus  lookin'  arfter  'em,"  Singular  asserted ;  "  know'd 
when  they  went  ;  know'd  arter  they  wus  gone.  That  ar' 
hoss  of  Tomlen's  is  a  wonderful  unruly  critter,  Mr. 
Shaker.     He's  pussuaded  Gusty  off,  I  know." 

"  I  s'pose  he  thinks  thar's  more  to  eat  in  the  road," 
said  Mrs.  Judson.  "  Come,  Sing'lar,  why  ain't  you  arter 
em?  Thar's  poor  Tomlen  a  Hmpin'  about — sperrets 
wiUin'  enough,  poor  feller.  Tain't  his  fault  that  he  ain't 
five  mile  away." 

"He's  too  shaller  to  Hve,"  said  Singular,  sharply; 
"  bosses  '11  come  back ;  s'pected  'em  back  fore  this.  I 
shan't  go  arfter  'em." 


126  EENSHAWE. 

"Well,  don't  know  what  we'll  do,  IMr.  Shaker.  One's 
lame,  and  t'other  's  lazj — might  as  well  say  '  good-bye, 
John,'  to  the  hosses." 

IMr.  Shaker  was  fairly  aroused  about  the  horses,  but 
by  no  means  inclined  to  Singular's  opinion  that  they 
would  come  back  themselves.  Tomlin  soon  moved  up 
the  lawn.  Sam  Garniss  and  he  were  going  after  the 
horses  immediately.  Garniss  drove  up  in  a  light  sulky 
to  the  gate,  by  the  time  Tomlin  had  changed  his  coat, 
and  they  were  off  dii'ectly. 

Mr.  Shaker's  mind  gi-ew  quiet,  and  after  worrying 
a  little  while  about  Gusty,  he  endeavored  to  console  Sin- 
gular, by  expressing  his  hopes  that  the  horses  would 
soon  be  found,  and  by  laying  the  whole  blame  on  Sunset. 
Thus  spared  by  his  master,  Singular  grew  easy,  and 
looked  at  the  housekeeper  with  a  defiant  air. 

"  Don't  see  how  you're  goin'  to  get  the  cows  into  the 
lot,  Sing'lar,"  said  she.  "No  hoss  to  ride  to-night. 
Hain't  never  tole  Mr.  Shaker  how  you  jumped  the 
cattle  over  them  bars." 

"  That  warn't  much  trouble  for  em',"  said  Singular, 
stiffly. 

"Warn't  it?  I'd  like  to  see  anybody  settin'  you  to 
jumpin'  over  bars.  How  high  do  you  s'pose  you'd  go  ? 
Tain't  mor'n  this  momin'  you  said  you'd  mend  that 
fence,  and  now  you  see  the  horses  hev  got  off,  an'  you'U 
hev  to  pay  damages." 

"  Couldn't  mend  the  fence,"  said  Singular,  fiercely  ; 
"  wus  hard  to  work  aU  day." 

"Oh,  I  know  how  hard  you  worked.  Singular.  You 
wus  all  the  mornin'  a  stickin'  thi'ee  rods  o'  brush  in  the 
peas  ;  SaUy  foddered  the  cattle,  afore  you  wus  up,  an' 
this  artemoon  you  broke  the  teacup,  an'  then  you  wus  • 
done.  An'  what  did  you  do  yesterday,  for  mercy's 
sake  ?" 


BLUE  HILLS  127 

"  Set  out  cabbages — a  hull  row." 

"So  ye  did — three  in  the  row;  I  jest  ben  lookin'  at 
em.  Ef  some  one  don't  help  you,  there  won't  be  a  live 
thing  growin'  this  summer  ;  stuck  three  plants  in  a  cab- 
bage-bed, aU  you  done  yesterday,  on  the  face  of  the 
airth." 

"  Made  a  bonfiar,"  Singular  suggested." 

"  Oh,  yes — Tomhn  wus  out  here,  an'  raked  up  all  the 
dead  stuff,  and  you  lit  it,  an'  so  you  went  in  afore  Mr. 
Shaker,  an'  says  :  '  /  made  a  bonfiar !'  An'  ye  promised 
solemn  this  mornin'  you'd  mend  the  granary  floor." 

"  Did  mend  it,  arfter  I  cum  back  from  the  ploughshare 
business.     Didn't  you  hear  me  a-hammerin'  in  thar  ?" 

Mrs.  Judson  looked  incredulous,  but  as  it  was  too  late 
for  inspection  without  the  aid  of  a  lantern,  she  post- 
poned it  till  the  morning." 

Quite  late  in  the  evening,  just  as  I  was  going  to  my 
room,  I  was  stopped  by  the  housekeeper,  who  wore  a 
very  disturbed  air. 

"  Thar's  some  folks  at  the  gate,  jest  ben  inquiring  for 
Tomlin,  an'  askin'  who's  in  the  house  ;  and  when  I  men- 
tioned your  name  they  wanted  to  see  you.  It's  a  lady — 
queer  sort  o'  folks,  I  mistrust — said  I  needn't  come  out 
agin." 

My  curiosity  was  not  a  little  excited,  and  I  hurried  to 
obey  the  summons.  There  was  a  Hght  open  wagon  at 
the  gate,  to  which  a  single  horse  was  attached  ;  a  gleam 
from  a  lantern  feU  upon  my  face  as  I  came  down  the 
walk,  and  I  was  greeted  in  tones  that  I  recognized  im- 
mediately, as  those  of  my  cousin,  Alice  Ludlow. 

"  Louise,  I  hardly  thought  it  possible  you  could  be 
here,"  she  said  ;  "  and  I  have  but  a  very  few  minutes  to 
stay."     She   leaned  from   the   carriage  and  kissed  me. 

"How  is  Mr.  Tomlin?" 

"  Much  better,"  I  answered ;  perceiving  that  my  cousin 


128  RENSHAWE. 

had  a  companion.  This  was  a  man  wearing  a  slouched  cap, 
and  a  high  muffler,  that  covered  all  but  his  eyes,  though, 
from  his  general  appearance,  I  judged  he  was  quite 
young.  He  did  not  speak  to  me,  and  I  was  asked  sundiy 
questions  about  Tomlin,  by  my  cousin — when  he  would 
»be  back,  whither  he  had  gone,  how  long  he  had  been  in 
Blue  HiUs,  and  when  he  expected  to  quit  that  village. 

When  these  questions  were  answered,  a  few  low  words 
of  consultation  ensued  between  my  cousin  and  her  com- 
panion ;  after  which  the  former,  taking  a  paper  from  her 
pocket-book,  delivered  it  to  me,  with  strict  injunctions 
to  give  it  to  no  one  else  but  Tomlin,  and  should  he  not 
retui'n,  to  destroy  it. 

They  were  off  almost  immediately.  I  stood  for  some 
time  at  the  gate,  listening  to  the  rapid  roll  of  theii*  wheels, 
and  as  soon  as  the  surprise  caused  by  this  unexpected 
meeting  with  my  cousin  had  subsided,  revolving  all  the 
suspicious  and  painful  featui'es  of  the  episode,  I  went 
back  to  the  house,  thinking  worse  of  Tomlin  than  I  ever 
had  before ;  or  at  aU  events  with  my  mind  agitated  by 
the  cruel  suspense  that  belonged  to  suspicion.  As  for 
Alice,  I  could  understand  her  conduct  only  far  enough 
to  reprobate  it.  Her  companion  was,  as  I  supposed,  a 
perfect  stranger,  and  I  had  seen  his  face  only  distinctly 
enough  to  be  haunted  with  a  strange  recognition.  "What 
would  her  fiancee,  Louis  Ostrander,  say  of  these  singTdar 
escapades,  if  they  came  to  his  knowledge  ? 

The  household  was  not  a  little  agitated  in  regard  to 
the  fate  of  Tomlin  and  the  horses  ;  IMi's.  Judson  wan- 
dered about  in  a  continual  ferment. 

"Hope,  they  ain't  aU  smashed  up  in  a  heap,"  she  said 
anxiously  ;  "that  Sam  Gamiss  is  an  awful  feller  to 
drive;  fetched  me  once  from  Caney  Fork,  and  upset  three 
times  afore  we  got  to  Eocky  Cross.  Didn't  go  no  furder 
than  Rocky  Cross — thort  I'd  had  enough  of  it — said  it 


BLUE   HILLS.  129 

wus  a  young  colt  he  wtis  tryin'  to  break— hope  he  ain't 
a-tryin'  to  break  more  to-night,  or  we  might  not  see 
Tomhn  so  soon  as  the  bosses." 

"  Any  imrticular  risk  about  it  ?"  asked  Mr.  Shaker. 

"  Sartin,  thar  is— he's  an  orful  feller  with  a  boss.     I 

was    down    on    the    store    steps  t'other    day,   and    he 

cum    along,  smokin',  and    wagin'  a-swingin'   as    usual. 

Store-keeper     hollered,     'hello     Garniss,     whar's     yer 

breechin'  strap.'     'Dang  the  boss,'  says   Sam  says  he, 

*  that  can't  keep  clar  of  the  wagin  I'  and  away  they  went, 

wagin'  a-bangin'  agin  the  boss  every  step  they  trotted." 

"  Why  did  you  not  inform  Tomlin  ?"  said  her  master. 

"  Did  tell  him,  but  didn't  make  any  difference.     He'd 

a-gone,  I  s'pose,  in  cirkis  harness,  arter  Sunset." 

Abut  twelve  o'clock  at  night,  Tomlin  rode  into  the 
yard  with  the  horses.  Garniss  and  he  had  found  them 
up  at  Caney  Fork,  where  they  had  been  stopped  by  a 
farmer's  son  ;  they  were  made  fast  in  the  stables,  and 
Singular  solemnly  promised  to  have  the  fence  mended 
by  sunrise  ;  and  J\lrs.  Judson  declared  that  not  a  morsel 
should  he  have  to  eat,  until  that  vow  was  fulfilled. 

"Oh,  let  him  have  his  breakfast,  Julia,"  said  Mr. 
Shaker,  with  a  shocked  air." 

"  Then  'twon't  never  get  done.  No,  Sing'lar,  I'll  call 
ye  to-morrer  fore  sunrise,  an'  I'll  keep  yer  breakfast  hot 
till  the  fence  is  done.'*  • 

Tomhn  had  just  come  in,  as  this  arrangement  was 
complete.  He  looked  very  pale  with  fatigue,  and  owned 
that  it  had  been  no  easy  matter  to  find  the  horses. 

"That  Garniss  is  a  very  obhging  fellow,"  he  remarked; 
"  got  out  his  horses  and  did  not  stop  to  eat  his  supper, 
I  shall  not  soon  forget  it." 

"He  ought  to  receive  some  acknowledgment,"  re- 
marked Mi\  Shaker. 

"  IVIight  send  him  a  harf  a  dollar,"  suggested  Singular. 
6* 


130  RENSHAWE. 

"  "We'll  send  you  with  it  to-morrer,"  said  Mrs.  Judson, 
angrily  ;  "  half  a  dollar !  wonder  what  you'd  think  wus 
pay  for  sech  a  tramp  ?" 

I  took  advantage  of  the  excitement,  of  which  this 
speech  was  the  signal,  to  apprise  Tomlin  of  my  cousin's 
visit,  though  I  did  not  mention  her  name.  Tomlin  ex- 
pressed his  thanks,  as  he  took  the  papers,  and  my  sus- 
picions were  laid  to  rest  in  a  great  measure,  by  the  cool- 
ness with  which  he  regarded  the  incident.  I  said  the 
lady  particularly  desii'ed  to  see  him.  ^ 

"  It  is  quite  as  well,"  replied  Tomlin.  As  he  left  the 
room  I  saw  a  strange  look  upon  his  face,  that  served 
to  disturb  me  again.  No  soul,  not  ill  at  ease  could  have 
lent  such  an  expression  to  the  features. 

The  next  morning  I  heard  Mrs.  Judson  clattering  at 
Singular's  door  by  early  dawn,  and  after  some  scolding 
back  and  forth,  I  saw  him  leisurely  plodding  his  way 
across  the  cornfields.  After  breakfast,  j\Irs.  Judson 
saved  a  decent  amount  of  steak  and  potatoes,  which 
hissed  away  in  the  frying-pan  for  a  goodly  time.  At 
last  they  were  put  on  a  plate  and  consigTied  to  the  stove 
oven  ;  but  as  there  was  no  sign  of  Singular  Twist,  IMrs. 
Judson's  heart  at  last  relented,  and  she  went  to  remind 
him  of  the  breakfast,  of  which  he  had  been  so  obhvious. 
There  was  no  sign  of  Twist  in  any  of  the  lots,  in  the 
street,  or  in  the  out-houses ;  what  was  more,  the  fence 
had  not  been  touched. 

Sally  had  gone  up  in  the  course  of  the  morning  to 
Garniss's  with  a  sum  of  money,  and  on  her  retui-n, 
she  stated  that  Garniss  refused  the  reward.  "Coui'se, 
know'd  he  would,"  said  IVIrs.  Judson,  slapping  the  money 
on  the  shelf  ;  "now  then,  Sally,  you've  got  to  put  on  yer 
bonnet  agin,  an'  go  look  for  Sing'lar.  He's  sleepin 
summers  about  town:" 

"  He's  up  to  Garniss's,"  said  Sally  in  a  tone  of  wonder. 


BLUE  HILLS.  131 

«  Sot  thar  eatin'  breakfast  when  I  went  in;  wus  a  tellin' 
over  some  yarn  'bout  how  we  starved  him.  Everybody 
thar  wus  up  from  the  table,  and  he  sot  crooked  over 
drinkin'  corfy.  Wus  in  a  hurry,  guess,  hadn't  took  his 
straw  hat  orf." 

Mrs.  Judson's  emotions  were  too  powerful  to  enable 
her  to  threaten  vengeance.  She  sank  back  in  a  chair, 
and  hfted  both  her  hands. 

"  Starved !  well,  of  all  things !  an'  beggin'  his  break- 
fast to  Garniss's !  Never  in  my  Hfe  did  I  see  anything, 
or  anybody  to  match  Sing'lar  Twist." 


CHAPTER  XIV. 


'ITH  all  the  household  Tomlin  rapidly  in- 
\^\^\  creased  in  favor,  and  that  member  of  it  by  whom 
he  was  held  in  special  esteem,  was  Singular.  By 
that  individual  he  was  extolled  to  the  skies  ;  for,  as  Mr. 
Twist's  chief  horror  was  that  of  doing  anything,  his 
gratitude  was  evoked  in  the  most  signal  way  by  sundry 
small  chores  vrith  which  Tomlin  employed  himself 
throughout  the  greater  part  of  the  day,  such  as  mowing 
the  lawn,  trimming  the  vines,  and  harnessing  Gusty,  all 
which,  Singular  declared,  saved  him  a  "  powerful  deal  of 
trouble-'-  Mrs.  Judson  was  no  longer  in  despair  over  the 
garden  ;  Tomlin  had  promised  his  energies  in  that  quar- 
ter, with  the  only  stipulation  that  his  share  in  its  pros- 
perity should  not  be  made  known  to  Mr.  Shaker ;  and 
the  housekeeper,  over  whom  he  exercised  great  influence, 
reluctantly  consented. 

"Mr.  Tomlin   seems  to  have  advanced  in  your  good 
graces,"  I  remarked  to  Edith  during  the  day  on  which 


132  BENSHAWE. 

Twist  breakfasted  out.  "I  see  you  were  talking  to  him 
this  morning  in  the  summer-house  a  long  time." 

"  Yes  ;  we  have  been  discussing  what  that  wretched 
Mrs.  Judson  calls  my  whims.  I  opened  the  subject,  and 
it  has  had  a  delightful  termination.  I  am  to  be  cui'ed  of 
them." 

I  asked  how  a  consummation  so  much  to  be  desired 
was  to  be  brought  about. 

"  WTiy,  Tomlin  says  it  is  nothing  more  than  that  I  have 
a  mathematical  turn  of  mind,  and  that  if  he  had  daugh- 
ters he  should  train  them  all  up  to  study  mathematics. 
He  analyzed  my  desire  to  see  everything  at  proper 
angles — chairs  square  against  the  wall,  people  square  on 
the  chaii's,  and  tables  square  with  the  people.  I  said  it 
was  so  ;  a  thing  which  is  three-quarters  of  an  inch 
crooked,  unsettles  my  nerves.  Tomlin  says  it  is  be- 
cause I  am  tied  to  elementary  princij^les.  For  his  part, 
one  angle  is  as  beautiful  in  his  eyes  as  another  ;  and 
his  greatest  pleasure  is  in  watching  the  multitudi- 
nous angles  in  nature  ;  for  instance,  in  passing  through 
a  forest,  the  angles  made  by  the  trees  are  as  countless 
as  the  sands  of  the  seas.  He  thinks  that  if  I  will  but 
study  conic  sections,  I  will  be  so  partial  to  curves,  that 
I  will  admii'e  all  kinds  of  positions  and  shapeS;  to  the 
same  extent  that  I  now  do  proprieties.  I  suppose  I  shall 
see  a  problem  every  time  jMrs.  Judson  sets  the  table  at 
cross-corners." 

"  And  is  Tomlin  going  to  teach  you  conic  sections  ?" 
I  asked. 

"First  geometi-y,  which  I  have  studied  a  Httle,  and 
conic  sections  afterwards.  He  is  going  to  bake  some 
clay  cones  in  the  sun,  to  give  me  practical  illustrations. 
I  thought  clay  was  not  very  nice,  but  Tomlin  says  as  we 
were  made  out  of  the  dust  of  the  eai-th,  I  should  not 
cavil  at  it." 


BLUE  HILLS. 


133 


The  first  lesson  was  given  that  very  evening.  Miss 
Laiiney  had  some  superficial  knowledge  of  geometry, 
and  it  was  difficult  to  decide  whether  the  master  or  pupil 
was  more  deeply  interested  in  the  business  in  haiid.  I 
soon  saw  that,  though  they  disputed  nearly  all  the  eve- 
ning, they  had  chosen  the  best  imaginable  plan  to  pro- 
mote a  fuU  and  final  reconcHiation.  For  some  days  I 
left  them  ahnost  altogether  to  themselves,  and  pursued 
my  usual  avocations  in  the  summer-house,  where  Miss 
Launey  feared  to  stay,  on  account  of  the  insects  which 
alighted  on  the  vines.  It  was  scarcely  less  pleasant  in 
the  back  sitting-room.  East  and  west  windows  stood 
open  fi'om  dawn  tHl  candle-hghting,  admitting  the  mild 
breezes  of  spring;  and  the  bees  hummed  all  day  about 
the  hive,  in  close  proximity  to  the  window. 

The  first  rainy  day  that  silenced  the  bees  and  banished 
the  zephyrs,  forbade  me  the  summer-house;  and  for  the 
hour  that  Edith's  lesson  lasted,  I  was  a  tenant  of  the  sit- 
tmg-room.  I  busied  myself  in  attempting  a  sketch  of 
the  gTOup,  and  in  the  mean  time  gathered,  fi'om  the  prog- 
ress of.  remarks,  that  the  course  of  the  lessons  had  not 
run  smooth  for  the  last  few  days. 

"  I  trust  I  shall  not  try  your  patience  too  severely  this 
morning,  Mr.  Tomlin,"  Edith  began;  "I  have  been  study- 
ing by  myself." 

"  Then  you  are  all  primed  with  letters,  of  course !" 
"  I  must  learn  by  the  letters,  Mr.  Tomlin.     We  went 
all  through  EucHd,  at  the  Young  Ladies'  CoUegiate  Insti- 
tute, and  alioays  attached  the  letters  to  the  demonstra- 
tion." 

"  Well,  the  Institute  settles  the  point,  of  course.  You 
may  recite  the  forty-seventh  proposition." 

Edith  went  through  it  with  a  fluency  that  I  thought 
must  deUght  the  soul  of  any  teacher. 

"  I  am  only  speaking  for  your  own  sake,  Miss  Edith,'* 


134  RENSHAWE. 

said  Tomlin.  "  Tliis  sort  of  thing  is  of  no  advantage  to 
you — all  wasted  time.  You  might  as  well  recite  a  Latin 
epic  without  any  idea  of  the  signification  of  the  words. 
You  won't  get  into  the  cones  in  a  year." 

"  Mr.  Tomlin,  you  are  really  very  discoui-aging !  I  have 
studied  very,  very  hard  all  the  morning." 

"  I  know  you  have  ;  you  have  lavished  on  these  prob- 
lems three  times  the  study  that  would  enable  you  to 
understand  them  perfectly,  and  your  knowledge  of  them 
is  hardly  preferable  to  Singular  Twist's.  I'll  prove  it 
immediately.  There's  the  forty-seventh  without  the  let- 
ters :  indicate  the  lines  and  angles  with  your  pencil,  and 
proceed." 

Edith  fidgeted  considerably.  "  I'll  say  the  whole  pro- 
position without  the  diagram,  Mr.  Tomlin,  if  I  may  say  it 
with  letters.  We  never  had  diagrams  at  the  Young 
Ladies'  Collegiate  Institute.  Our  teacher  used  to  tell  us 
to  keep  the  diagrams  in  our  minds." 

"  The  more  I  hear  of  that  remarkable  Institute,"  said 
Tomlin,  "the  more  I  am  inclined  to  wonder  that  the 
young  ladies  graduated  with  any  intellects  left.  You 
didn't  keep  the  diagrams  in  your  mind,  and  if  you  will 
attend  to  me  closely,  I'll  endeavor  to  insert  a  few  into 
that  receptacle." 

Edith  riveted  all  her  faculties  :  Tomlin  explained  and 
re-explained  for  two  hoiu'S  with  the  most  commendable 
patience.     Edith  Hstened  with  an  anxious  face. 

"Kecollect,"  said  Tomhn,  in  conclusion,  "you  are 
never  to  think  of  these  letters  again,  except  so  far  as 
necessary  to  learn  the  lesson.  By  the  way,  you  need  not 
tie  yourself  to  a  stated  task  Hke  a  school  girl.  Why 
don't  you  progress  faster  ?" 

"  I  have  so  little  time,  Mr.  Tomlin." 

"  WTiat  becomes  of  youi'  time  these  long  summer  days  ?'* 

Edith  enumerated :    She  rose  at  six,  was  dressed  for 


BLUE  HILLS.  id 5 

breakfast  by  seven.  After  breakfast  she  directed  Sally 
in  putting  her  room  in  order.  That  occupied  till  ten 
o'clock,  when  she  took  her  first  lesson.  From  eleven  till 
twelve,  she  slept ;  from  twelve  till  one,  she  dressed  for 
dinner.  After  dinner  she  strolled  out  a  little  while,  then 
studied  for  her  next  recitation.  At  five  o'clock,  she  al- 
ways went  to  dress  for  tea — a  duty  impossible  to  perform 
in  less  than  two  hours.  Her  evening  employments  were 
various,  and  known  to  the  household. 

"I  hardly  know,"  said  Tomlin,  "how  to  suggest  an 
alteration  in  such  a  routine  ;  but  I  should  think  if  you 
could  curtail  your  directions  to  Sally,  something  might  be 
gained.  If  you  were  my  sister,  and  I  had  therefore  the 
right  to  advise,  I  might  add,  that  two  or  three  hours 
taken  fi'om  your  toilette  and  spent  half  in  study,  and 
half  in  hay-making,  would  be  of  advantage,  mental  and 
physical." 

"  Hay-making !"  cried  Edith. 

"  Yes,  or  hoeing.  There  is  that  bed  of  beets,  outside 
the  garden  gate,  in  which  Singular  pulled  up  exactly  six- 
teen weeds  yesterday,  at  Mrs.  Judson's  instigation.  It 
has  been  an  eye-sore  to  me  for  a  week,  but  I  am  hardly 
strong  enough  to  attack  it  yet." 

Edith  thought  it  wise  to  pass  over  these  suggestions  in 
silence,  and  withdrew  with  her  books. 

Tomlin  opened  a  conversation  with  me  : 

"  Four  hours  out  of  the  blessed  day  spent  in  putting  on 
clothes  and  braiding  hair !    It  sounds  incredible  ! " 

There  was  more  silence,  after  which  came  a  sober 
question  :  "  Miss  Kenshawe,  is  it  your  opinion  that  there 
is  anything  going  on  under  this  roof  that  deserves  the 
name  of  flirtation  ?" 

"  Only  what  goes  on  over  the  drawing-board,"  said  I, 
laughing,  "  and  that  seems  to  be  conversation  and  study 
intermixed.  What  sort  of  a  student  does  Miss  Edith 
make?" 


136  RENSHAWE. 

"  She  tries  very  hard  ;  btit  she  has  no  brains,"  Tomlin 
replied,  "  at  least  none  for  this  sort  of  thing." 

Remembering  his  remark  on  her  mathematical  turn  of 
mind,  I  was  wondering  whether  it  was  her  mistake,  or 
his  disappointment,  when  Tomhn  resumed : 

"  You  are  an  impartial  looker  on  ;  I  want  you  to  pro- 
mise, that  if  you  see  matters  progi-essing  to  the  dignity  of 
a  love  affair,  you  will  inform  me  at  once,  that  I  may  put 
myself  beyond  the  reach  of  danger." 

"  You  don't  mean  by  leaving,  IVIr.  Tomlin  ?" 

"Certainly." 

"  Then  it's  very  short-sighted  in  you,"  said  I,  laughing, 
"  to  depend  on  me  for  a  warning,  after  giving  that  as  a 
consequence.  I  shall  be  very  bhnd  to  anything  that 
threatens  to  send  you  away." 

Tomlin  turned  to  me  wdth  more  earnestness  and 
warmth  of  manner  than  I. had  ever  seen  in  him  before. 

"My  sister — my  dear  sister,"  he  said,  "if  there  is  a 
woman  in  the  world  x)n  whose  sense  and  discretion  I 
have  rehance,  it  is  you.  I  know,  if  you  give  me  the 
promise  I  ask,  you  will  certainly  keep  it,  though  the  ful- 
fillment should  conflict  with  your  wishes  more  than  it  is 
likely  to  here.  I  say  to  you,  in  all  soberness,  I  am  not  in 
love  with  that  girl,  and  have  serious  objections  to  becom- 
ing so;  at  the  same  time  I  may  not  be  able  to  judge  for 
myself  before  long,  and  I  ask  one  who  is  a  candid  and 
impartial  spectator  to  judge  for  me." 

I  was  a  little  touched  by  this  address,  and  though 
unable  to  respond  so  cordially  as  to  call  Tomlin  my 
brother,  I  was  not  insensible  to  the  compliment  paid  by 
the  adoption  on  his  part. 

"  Why  need  your  staying  here  insure  your  falling  in 
love  with  ]Miss  Launey  ?"  I  asked. 

"Because,  if  you  shut  up  any  man  in  a  hermitage 
with  a  young  giii,  a  love  affair  is  inevitable.     People  as 


BLUE   HELLS.  137 

dissimilar  as  ]\Iiss  Launey  and  I  by  daily  intercourse  grow 
congenial.  I  beg  you  won't  imagine  that  I  think  Miss 
Launey  in  any  danger  of  succumbing  to  the  evils  of 
the  seclusion — not  at  all;  I  have  not  the  presumption  to 
suppose  it;  but  she  is  very  much  of  a  coquette,  among 
her  other  faults  too  numerous  to  mention,  and  it  is 
quite  probable  that  /  may  be  in  danger.  I  like  her  bet- 
ter than  when  she  first  came.  I  really  don't  dishke  her 
affectations;  I  am  quite  reconciled  to  the  '  compeers;'  find 
myself  with  a  vocabulary  of  her  pet  words,  and  besides 
all  that  I  think  she  improves  in  looks." 

"  That  is  the  most  alarming  of  all,"  said  I. 

TomHn  seemed  thoughtful.  "  I  have  heard  of  men 
falhng  in  love  with  capricious  scholars,  and  rebellious 
scholars,  and  idle  scholars.  Whether  a  man  can  fall  in 
love  vdth  a  stupid  scholar  or  not  remains  to  be  seen." 

The  next  day  IMiss  Launey  surprised  the  whole  fam- 
ily by  working  for  three  hours  at  the  bed  of  beets,  dur- 
ing TomHn's  absence  at  Garniss's.  She  refused  to  ac- 
cept any  assistance  either  from  me  or  from  Sally;  it  was 
aU  to  be  her  own  work.  She  came  in  at  last,  flushed 
and  triumphant,  but  after  an  hour  in  her  apartment  re- 
appeared in  consternation. 

"  ^Irs.  Judson,  what  is  to  be  done  about  my  hands  ? 
Only  see  how  they  are  soiled !" 

"  Siled  ?     Looks  hke  stain.     Better  wash  'em.' 

"  Wash  them !  I  have  been  washing  them  for  an  hour 
with  every  brand  of  soap  in  my  box !" 

"  Shouldn't  hev  thought  you'd  a-handled  them  weeds, 
.  without  gloves  on,"  said  Mrs.  Judson.  "  Don't  know 
what  you  wiU  do." 

"What  does  Singular  do  to  extract  these  fearful 
juices  ?"  asked  Edith  with  a  face  fuU  of  concern. 

"  Sing'lar  ?  Laws,  guess  he  hain't  pulled  up  so  many 
weeds  in  a  year  as  you  have  this  mornin'." 


138  REWSHAWE 

Miss  Launey  appealed  in  despair  to  Twist,  who  saun- 
tered in  at  the  moment.  Singular  looked  as  sympathiz- 
ing as  possible,  and  then  said  he  did  not  know;  guessed 
it  would  "war  off." 

"  Wear  off !  Terrible !"  exclaimed  Edith.  "  Can't  you 
suggest  an;yiihing.  Singular  ?" 

Singular  said  "thar  was  lemin-juice  would  take  off 
some  stains.  Didn't  know  whether  it  was  good  for  poke- 
weed  stains  or  not."  ]\Iiss  Launey  tried  lemon  juice  to 
no  effect.  Singular's  resorts  were  at  an  end.  He  thought 
Tomlin  might  know  something  about  it;  better  wait  till 
he  came  home. 

ISIiss  Launey  wore  gloves  all  the  evening,  and  devoted 
herself  to  her  uncle's  botanical  works  with  a  face  of 
despair.  ^Irs.  Judson  called  my  attention  to  the  late 
demonstration  significantly. 

"  Never  know'd  her  do  such  a  thing  afore  in  my  life, 
Miss  Renshawe,  as  work  in  a  beet-bed.  She's  fairly  gone 
crazy.  Didn't  get  much  consolation  from  Tomlin  about 
her  hands.  He  tole  her  it  would  certainly  wear  off  in 
seven  years,  for  everybody  had  a  new  skin  by  that  time. 
She  don't  like  to  hev  him  maken  fun  of  her.  She's  detar- 
mined  on  hevin'  his  heart,  an'  it'll  be  gone  afore  he 
knows  it." 

T^Tiatever  might  be  Edith's  design  on  Tomlin's  heart, 
she  was  apparently  the  most  devoted  of  pupils.  Her 
apphcation,  now  that  it  was  rightly  directed,  was  'atten- 
ded with  a  marked  result.  She  owned  to  me  that  she 
had  no  great  taste  for  the  study  in  hand.  If  it  had 
only  been  some  foreign  language;  German,  for  instance, 
and  they  were  reading  a  German  novel  together,  how 
much  finer  it  would  be. 

I  had  resolved  not  to  be  unmindful  of  Tomlin's  in- 
junction, consequently  I  stationed  myself  for  several 
mornings  in  the  sitting-room  to  gain  a  just  idea  of  the 


BLUE   HILLS  139 

state  of  affairs.  I  decided  before  long  that  whatever 
might  be  the  danger  Tomlin  had  feared  for  himself, 
Edith  was,  of  the  two,  in  the  most  unenviable  frame  of 
mind. 

She  watched  every  look  and  motion,  listened  atten- 
tively to  every  word  he  said,  and  her  recitations  were 
faultless.  Moreover,  when  the  least  interruption  occurred 
her  annoyance  was  intense.  And  interruptions  were  not 
a  few.  Mr.  Shaker  was  constantly  coming  in  mth  the 
log-book  to  ask  some  explanation  of  signs  and  degrees; 
Sally  was  all  the  time  bringing  some  report  about  the 
horses,  or  hens,  that  took  Tomlin  off  to  the  stables  or 
poultry-yard.  IVIiss  Launey's  indignation  was  marked 
by  TomHn  with  a  quiet  amusement  that  spoke  well  for 
the  calmness  of  his  soul;  nevertheless,  I  fancied  that  he 
was  flattered  by  the  exacting  nature  of  her  behavior.  One 
morning  the  annoyance  on  her  part  rose  to  a  higher 
pitch  than  usual.  Mrs.  Judson  had  just  rushed  in,  carry- 
ing a  piece  of  carpet  about  two  feet  square. 

"  Whar's  Sing'lar  Twist  ?"  she  demanded,  tumultuously. 

Singular,  who  had  been  whisthng  and  whitthng  for  some 
time  outside  the  window,  presented  his  enticing  physiog- 
nomy at  the  same.  "  Oh,  thar  you  air,  Sing'lar.  Now, 
then,  didn't  you  tell  me  you'd  mend  the  granary  floor  ? 
Didn't  you  promise  an'  vow  so  solemn  you  would  ?  and 
hevn't  you  only  spread  down  this  piece  of  carpet  over 
the  hole,  an'  I  jest  fell  in  an'  like  to  killed  myself,  hey  ? 
What'll  Mr.  Shaker  say  to  such  mendin'  as  that,  hey  ? 
Tell  you  I  fell  right  down  into  it." 

"Wall,"  protested  Singular,  "what  are  jou  alius 
a-goin'  along  in  such  a  hurry  for  ?  S'pected  ye'd  look 
under  the  carpet  afore  ye  stepped  on  it.  You're  alius 
a-smashin'  about,  and  a-breakin  and  a-smashin !" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  broke  the  blue  chany,  didn't  I,  Sing'lar  I 
'Mx.  Shaker's  blue  chany  tea-set." 


140  RENSHAWE. 

"  Ye  talk  as  though  I'd  broke  the  hull  set,"  said  Sin- 
gular, resentfully;  "never  broke  but  one  tea-cup." 

"Well,  ain't  that  a  breakin'  the  set?"  demanded  the 
housekeeper.  "  It's  eleven  cups  an'  sassers,  an'  one  odd 
sasser.  Ef  that  set  ain't  broke  better  git  the  pitcher  an* 
dash  that,  too." 

jMiss  Launey  had  with  difficulty  commanded  her  tem- 
per; at  this  juncture  she  lost  patience.  "  ^Ii'S.  Judson," 
she  said,  "  have  you  nothing  in  the  world  to  do  but  to 
run  about  with  carpets  1  You  have  shaken  the  dust  all 
over  my  dress.  Thi'ow  it  out  of  the  window,  and  send 
Singular  to  his  business  if  he  has  anything  to  do." 

"  To  do  ?  I  shed  think  so !  Ain't  thar  the  four-acre 
lot  ?     TeU  you  what " 

Singular  started  up,  and  jammed  on  his  straw  hat. 
"  I'll  start  now  an'  bum  the  swamps  over." 

"  Oh,  sartain;  you  ken  strike  a  match  anytime.  Don't 
you  want  Tomhn  to  help  you  kerry  it  ?" 

Singular  was  heedless  of  this  sarcasm,  and  moved  off 
in  the  dii'ection  of  the  swamp-ground.  This  day]VIiss 
Launey  did  not  aj)pear  to  succeed  so  well  with  the  reci- 
tation as  usual.  Tomlin  was  ui  a  mood  that  she  always 
found  provoking. 

"  What  does  the  cosine  equal  ?"  he  had  iaquired.  She 
did  not  know. . 

"  You  know  that  the  sine  divided  by  the  tangent  equals 
the  cosine.  That  you  knew  yesterday.  Now,  what  does 
the  cosine  equal  ?" 

Edith  shook  her  head.  "  I  don't  remember,  Mr.  Tom- 
lin." 

"  I  don't  ask  you  to  remember;  I  only  ask  you  to  reply. 
I've  made  it  so  plain  that  ]^Ii's.  Judson  could  answer  it." 

"]Mrs.  Judson!"  said  Edith,  indignantly. 

"  To  be  sure,  we'U  test  it.    Mrs.  Judson " 

"  Oh,  Lord !  don't  ask  me  none  o'  yer  jigenometry," 


BLUE  HILLS.  ^^^ 


said  the  housekeeper.     "  I  never  steddied  beyond  the  rule 

°'  *^:  ZZ^  that."  m.  Judson  Hstened  with  a 
broad  ffrin,  while  TomHn  put  the  question. 

"  H  the  sine  divided  by  the  tangent  equals  the  cosine, 
what  does  the  cosine  equal?"  -j  ivr^„  T„<q 

"Ekils  the  sine  divided  by  the  tangy,"  said  Mrs.  Jud- 

'"Tomlin  looked  exultantly  at  his  pupil.     Edith   grew 

r^^  iiStow  you  were  trifling  with  me  when  you 
asked  the  question.  I  suppose  I  could  have  said  if  two 
couples  arl  four,  four  are  two  couples;  but  I  supposed 
™u  were  trying  to  teach  me  something.  At  aU  events  I 
wasli^gtol^arn;  and  if  you  think  I  know  less  abou 
rrigonLftry  than  Mrs.  Judson,  perhaps  I  hadbetternot 

'■^SoTquite indignantly,  andgatheredupherbojs. 
Tomhn  stopped  her.  to  disclaim  all  intention  of  trifling. 
Quite  a  J£hy  discussion  ensued.  It  ended  mor  a^- 
cablythan  usual;  and  Miss  Launey  actuaUy  forgot  the 
demands  of  her  toilet  till  it  lacked  fifteen  mmutes  of 

"tv^iilS  myself  of  the  moment  that  Mrs.  Judson  had 
gone  to  summon  Mr.  Shaker  to  table,  I  leaned  from  ttie 
Ldow,  outside  which  Tomhn  stood  regar<hng  thought- 
fdly  several  clay  cones  baking  in  the  sun,  and  said  m  a 

^""^'tTu  asked  me  to  warn  you  when  I  saw  danger  at 

'''Tomlin  looked  at  me  gravely.     "Don't  teU  me  so  yet" 
"Is  she  not  handsomer  to-day  than  yesterday?    I  in- 
quired.    "  Are  you  not  beginning  to  understand  Mr.  Del- 
aware's infatuation  ?"  ^. 
"  I  own  it  appears  more  luminous  than  formerly,  Miss 


142  RENSHAWE, 

ReDshawe,  but  a  rival  is  necessary  to  develop  it.  How- 
ever, you  may  say  to  ^liss  Launey,"  he  continued,  in  a 
flippant  tone,  "  that  if  she  does  not  want  a  second  edition 
of  that  affair  on  her  conscience,  she  must  take  care  not 
to  warm  fish-balls  for  anybody  but  your  humble  servant. 
I'U  forgive  Mr.  Golightly  because  he's  dead,  but  that 
must  be  the  only  exception." 

"She  is  older  than  you,  Mr.  Tomlin." 

"  That's  nothing." 

"  She  was  engaged  to  that  Mr.  Golightly." 

"  That  is  still  less." 

Mr.  Shaker's  step  was  on  the  stairs.  I  hastened  to 
speak,  for  I  knew  that  Tomlin  might  not  be  in  the  mood 
to  listen  readily  again. 

"  Then,"  said  I,  earnestly,  "  by  the  di-ead  of  all  that 
awaits  you,  if  this  affair  continues,  whatever  issue  it 
may  take,  I  appeal  from  Tomlin  drunk  to  Tomlin  sober. 
Go." 

Tomlin  looked  up.  "  Will  Mentor  be  kind  enough  to 
throw  his  protegee  off  the  rock  ?  Deeds,  not  words,  will 
seire  me  now.  You  have  spoken  well,  Miss  Renshawe, 
but  it  is  too  late." 


CHAPTER   XV. 


UITE  an  agitated  appearance  was  presented  by 
Miss  Launey  when  she  ran  in,  an  hour  after  din- 
'ner,  in  the  second  toilette  of  the  day.     Something 
new  was  on  the  eve  of  development. 

"Never  mind  my  dinner  now,  ^Irs.  Judson,  I  must  see 
Miss  Renshawe  and  you  a  little  while.  In  the  first  place, 
where  is  Mr.  TomHn." 

"  Why,  he's  gone  down  the  lot.     Sing'lar's  sot  the 


BLUE  HILLS.  143 

swamps  afire,  and  they've  bui-nt  clear  over  the  four-acre 
lot,  and  got  up  into  Garniss's  fields,  an'  there's  a  dozen 
men  there  a-trjin  to  put  it  out,  an'  Tomlin's  afeard  Gar- 
niss's barn'll  git  afire.  I  heerd  ole  Garniss  a-swarin' 
clar  up  here." 

"  Well,  Mr.  Tomlin  won't  be  back  very  soon,  will  he  ?'* 

"Laws,  no;  not  this  four  hours.  Ef  they  git  the  fire 
out  by  supper  time  they'll  do  well." 

"  Louisa,  I  have  made  a  most  awful  discovery  about 
Mr.  Tomlin !  Don't  tell  her,  Mrs.  Judson.  It's  what 
you  told  me  this  morning.     Let  IMiss  Renshawe  guess." 

I  guessed  everything  I  could  think  of  in  considerable 
alarm.     None  of  my  surmises  were  correct. 

Edith  lowered  her  tone.     "  He  has  been  a  sailor  f" 

"Is  that  all?"  said  I,  laughing.  "Didn't  you  know  it 
before?" 

"  I  might  have  known  it,"  replied  Edith.  "  He  was  so 
absorbed  in  those  sea  tales  of  Cooper's  that  he  could  not 
be  divorced  from  the  books.  For  three  whole  days  he 
was  intent  on  them — liked  them  better  than  the  other 
novels.     Did  you  not  notice  it  ?" 

"I  thought  him  more  interested  in  the  Spy,"  said  I. 
"It  is  strange  that  you  never  knew  he  had  been  a 
sailor." 

"  No,  I  never  dreamed  it,  but  that's  not  the  matter  in 
hand  now.  What  did  Mr.  Tomlin  bring  to  the  house — 
what  garments?" 

"  Nothing,"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  "  except  what  wus 
on  his  back." 

"Positively  nothing?" 

"  No.  When  I  fust  seen  him  in  this  house,  the  day 
arter  that  Good  an'  his  company  staid  here  all  night,  he 
had  on  an  ole  gray  fiannel  shirt  an'  black  trousers.  Never 
knowed  he  had  a  coat  till  he  got  hurt  up  to  mother's,  an' 
some  one  hauled  it  out  o'  some  closet.     Seemed  to  think 


144  KENSHAWE. 

more   of  liis  boots  than   anythin'   else.     Goin'  to  make 
him  some  clothes,  Miss  Launey  ?" 

"  Nonsense,  Mrs.  Judson.  The  clothes  he  has  on  now 
must  have  been  somewhere  then  ?" 

"Dry  goods  store  at  Blue  Hills,"  said   Mrs.  Judson. 

"]\Iiss  Kenshawe  cut  'em  out,  an'  Sally  an'  I  made 
em. 

"What  is  his  Christian  name?"  asked  Edith. 

"  Sam,  or  Jim.     ^Miich  is  it,  ^liss  Eenshawe  ?" 

I  did  not  know.  Edith  unfolded  a  handkerchief  ^vith 
a  narrow  vine  on  the  border.  "  Did  you  ever  see  that 
before,  IMrs.  Judson  ?" 

"  Never.  ]\Ii\  Shaker  don't  hev  borders  on  his  handker- 
chiefs, and  SiQg'lar  Twist's  is  red  silk.  Must  be  Tomlin's, 
I  s'pose." 

"J.  B.,"  I  said,  looking  in  the  corner.  "That  stands 
for  John  Brown." 

"  It's  very  mysterious,"  said  Edith,  gi^avely;  "  don't 
you  think  so,  Louisa?" 

"  No.  Tomlin  lias  probably  exchanged  handkerchiefs 
with  some  man  of  those  initials." 

"  That  I  might  allow,"  said  Edith,  "  except  for  one  cir- 
cumstance. The  other  da}"  he  was  drawing  diagrams, 
added  some  flourishes  in  an  absent  way,  and  at  last  was 
about  to  affix  his  name.  He  wi'ote  a  J.  first,  then  a  B, 
and  an  K  just  following;  but  he  recollected  himself  sud- 
denly, and  stopped." 

"  That  justifies  my  surmise,"  said  I.  "  His  name  must 
be  Brown." 

Eor  additional  evidence,  Edith  examined  IVIrs.  Judson. 
That  worthy  dame  had  very  little  to  tell. 

"  Don't  know  nothin'  about  his  secrets,"  said  she;  "  he's 
tattooed  on  his  left  shoulder  with  an  anchor  an'  two  let- 
ters—not J.  B.,  but  H.  J." 

"  Are  you  sui'e,  IMrs.  Judson,  as  to  the  letters  ?" 


BLUE  HILLS.  145 

"  Sai'tain.  Must  hev  been  H.  J.,  for  I  asked  him  what 
they  stood  for,  and  he  said  Highlow  Jack." 

This  explauation  was  quite  satisfactory,  and  Edith's 
suspicions  returned  to  J.  B.  She  determined  to  investi- 
gate the  matter  soon,  and  determined  to  press  Mrs.  Jud- 
son  into  the  service.  A  long  conversation  was  held  be- 
tween them,  of  which  I  heard  nothing,  and  I  waited  with 
all  the  calmness  of  a  disinterested  spectator  for  the  issue 
of  the  trial. 

I  gathered  that  it  was  to  take  place  that  night,  but 
Mrs.  Judson  was  too  full  of  her  usual  cares  to  betray  any 
excitement  beyond  what  they  might  legitimately  call 
forth. 

]VIi\  Shaker  had  been  commending  Singular  for  his 
industry  in  having  set  out  a  whole  bed  of  onions  that 
very  forenoon.  Mrs.  Judson  asserted  that  Singular  loved 
onions  even  more  than  he  did  sitting  still,  and  that  they 
should  have  been  in  the  ground  more  than  a  month  ago. 
When  Singular  was  heard  in  the  kitchen,  he  was  called 
on  to  answer  a  new  charge. 

"What's  been  the  matter  with  the  hens  to-day,  I  won- 
der ?"  said  the  housekeeper. 

"Sing'lar  shet  'em  up  in  the  henroost,"  said  Sally 
Bunn. 

"  Sing'lar,  Sing'lar  Twist,  what  for  did  you  shet  up  the 
hens  ?"  demanded  the  authority  of  whom  he  stood  most 
in  awe.     They've  been  a-cackhn'  all  day  long." 

"  Let  'em  cackle,"  quoth  Singular. 

"  Well,  what  did  you  shet  'em  up  for;  can't  you  tell  ?" 

"  Feared  they'd  git  in  and  scratch  up  the  onions,"  said 
Singular. 

"  WTiy  ain't  you  stopped  up  the  fence  ?" 

"  Hadn't  nothin'  to  sto^D  it  with." 

"  Well,  do  you  s'pect  to  keep  them  hens  shet  up  till  the 
onions  hev'  grow'd  ?" 
7 


146  EENSHAWE. 

"  No.  I  only  shet  'em  up  while  I  could  git  the  brush 
spread  over  the  onions.  S'pect  I  shall  hev  it  got  by  to- 
morrer." 

Mrs.  Judson  groaned;  but  her  groans  on  the  score  of 
Singular  were  so  usual  as  not  materially  to  affect  the 
household. 

Tea  was  unusually  late  that  evening,  and  Mr.  Sha- 
ker, who  was  not  very  well,  retired  to  his  room  before 
the  rest  of  the  party  had  risen  from  the  table.  This 
party  consisted  of  his  two  fau'  protegees,  and  Tomlin. 
Mrs.  Judson,  sitting  opposite  her  master,  poured  tea  on 
all  occasions  for  both  tables.  Singular  and  Sally  occu- 
pied low  seats  behind  the  stove,  never  speaking  above 
their  breath,  except  when  Twist  whispered  some  commis- 
sion to  Sally,  which  he  was  too  lazy  to  execute  himself. 

After  ]VIr.  Shaker  had  withdi-awn,  the  conversation, 
though  from  what  source  I  did  not  notice,  turned  on  ne- 
cromancy. IMrs.  Judson's  beUef  in  it  was  aj^parently 
strong.  When  she  was  a  young  girl  she  had  gone  to  sev- 
eral fortune  tellers,  and  had  been  assured  by  every  one 
of  them  that  she  was  destined  to  be  a  widow  with  one 
son.  One  had  told  her  she  would  be  mai'ried  twice,  but 
the  second  husband  had  not  yet  made  his  appearance. 
Another  astrologist,  in  his  prognostications,  had  assui'ed 
her  she  was  to  have  a  great  deal  of  trouble.  That  was 
as  true  as  the  Gospel. 

"You  tell  fortius  yerself,  don't  ye?"  said  Singular, 
from  his  darkened  recess. 

]\Irs.  Judson  said,  with  apparent  reluctance  to  verge 
on  this  branch  of  the  subject,  "I've  tole  a  few.'*  I\Iiss 
Launey  was  at  once  all  animation. 

"Dear  ]Mrs.  Judson,"  she  cried  ;  "tell  ours  now  ;  I  am 
so  anxious  to  hear  mine !     Here's  my  hand  to  begin  with.'* 

"  Oh,  I  can't  tell  'em  off  hands,"  said  Mrs.  Judson  ; 
"I  had  a  pack  of  cards  once,  belonged  to  a  fortune-teller. 


BLUE  HILLS.  147 

all  spread  over  with  red  dragons,  an'  flyin'  devils,  an' 
sech.     But  I  tell  'em  best  off  tea-grounds." 

Miss  Launey's  eagerness  was  scarcely  restrained.  She 
hui-ried  round  the  table  to  inspect  the  tea-pot,  and  asked 
questions  with  a  spirit  which  lent  such  brightness  to  her 
features  that  Tomhn's  eyes  were  riveted.  Mrs.  Judson 
uttered  a  httle  mummery  over  the  tea-pot,  lifting  the  lid 
thrice,  and  turning  the  vessel  around  as  many  times  in 
the  coui'se  of  the  incantation. 

"  You'll  have  your  fortune  told,  won't  you,  Mr.  Tomlin?" 
said  Edith,  with  a  pleading  look. 

"  Yes  ;  if  you  care  to  hear  it,"  said  that  gentleman, 
indifferently. 

"  Certainly,  we  do.  Show  Mr.  Tomlin  how  to  manage 
his  cup,  IVIrs.  Judson." 

"Take  car',  Tomlin!"  cried  Mrs.  Judson,  as  though 
the  matter  was  one  of  Hfe  and  death  ;  "  you're  pourin' 
all  the  dregs  out  o'  the  cup  ;  must  let  'em  spread  on  the 
sides.  Don't  tech  your  spoon  to  it ;  let  it  go  nateral. 
Now  put  it  upside  down  on  the  sosser,  an'  turn  it  round 
three  times,  an'  make  a  wish  about  sumthin'." 

TomHn  handed  the  cup  to  Mrs.  Judson.  It  Avas  in- 
spected with  all  due  solemnity,  while  the  spectators  were 
all  mute  in  rapt  attention. 

"  Thar's  a  lady  in  the  wish,"  announced  the  oracle, 
"  and  the  wish  is  a  comin'  to  pass." 

"  I  shall  be  sui-prised  if  it  does,"  replied  Tomlin ;  "  I 
wished  that  Gusty  might  unlock  the  stable-door  in  the 
morning,  and  harness  himself  to  the  box  wagon." 

IVIrs.  Judson  was  a  little  disconcerted.  "  Shedn't  teU 
yer  wish,  Tomlen  ;  nothin'  comes  to  pass  when  you've 
tole  of  it." 

"  Go  on,  Mrs.  Judson,"  said  Edith,  eagerly. 
"  You've  ben   a   sailor,"   continued  the   housekeeper. 
"  The  men  at  sea  used  to  call  you  High-low  Jack  ;  you've 


148  RENSHAWE. 

got  some  friends  a  long  way  from  here,  and  there's  plenty 
of  money  among  'em,  too." 

"  It  would  be  pleasant  if  they  were  not  so  far  away," 
remarked  Tomhn.     "  What  next  ?" 

"You've  got  a  sister — one  sister — can't  tell  whether 
thar's  any  more  or  not  ;  but  yer  father  has  been  dead 
some  years." 

"  I  had  not  heard  of  it  before,"  said  the  subject  of  the 
oracle,  "  and  it  must  be  his  ghost  that  I've  taken  for  him 
three  or  four  months  ago.  What  does  the  infallible  cup 
say  further  ?     Is  my  mother  married  again  ?" 

"Your  mother's  name  isn't  Tomlen,"  pursued  Mrs. 
Judson. 

"  Then  she  must  be  married  again  ?" 

"Your  father's  name  isn't  TomHn." 

"Isn't,  nor  wasn't?" 

"Isn't  or  wasn't — 'never  was." 

"  That's  the  strangest  announcement  yet,"  said  Tomlin. 
"  Make  the  tea  leaves  clear  up  that  matter,  IMi's.  Judson  ; 
give  them  another  shake  ;  perhaps  they'll  tell  what  my 
father's  name  was,  as  weU  as  what  it  was  not." 

"  Thar's  a  B  in  the  cup,"  was  the  next  proclamation. 

"  Dead  or  aUve  ?"  asked  Tomlin. 

"Not  a  honey-bee — a  B  in  letters.'' 

"  Perhaps,"  said  I,  glancing  at  Edith,  "  that  stands  for 
Belisarius." 

Tomlin  turned  sideways  with  the  table,  taking  a  rung 
of  Mr.  Shaker's  vacated  chau*  for  a  footstool,  suppoi*ted 
his  elbow  on  the  leaf,  and  shaded  his  eyes  with  his  hand. 
Mrs.  Judson  proceeded. 

"  Seems  to  be  more  than  one  letter  here  :  thar's  a  T, 
and  a  J,  and  a  B,  here.  T  don't  seem  to  be  much — thar's 
a  good  deal  more  Jim  than  thar  is  Tom.  How's  that, 
Tomlen  ?" 

"  Go  on,"  said  he. 


BLUE   HILLS.  149 

"  Thar  seems  to  be  quite  a  family  of  'em  ;  all  B's,  and 
you  wus  bom  at  sea.     Is  that  so  ?" 

"  What  makes  you  ask  me  if  it's  so  ?"  answered  Tom- 
lin  ;  "  Can't  you  decide  that  yourself  ?" 

"  You're  going  on  a  long  journey." 

"Laws !"  exclaimed  Singular,  with  more  vivacity  than 
I  had  supposed  him  capable  of  ;  "I  hope  he  ain't  a  goin' 
away  from  here." 

"  Sing'lar,  you  jest  keep  still  ;  s'pose  you  don't  want 
him  to  go  ;  how  you  do  bother  and  put  out !  Whar  did 
I  leave  off  ?  Oh,  it  says  next,  and  the  plainest  thing  of 
all,  that  thar's  sumthin'  very  heavy  on  your  mind,  and 
you're  haltin  between  two  opinions." 

"You  treat  entirely  of  the  past,"  said  Tomlin  ;  "I'd 
like  to  hear  about  the  future." 

Mrs.  Judson  shook  her  head.  "  The  future's  black," 
said  she  ;  "  you're  goin'  to  do  sumthin'  you'll  repent  of, 
very  soon.  It'll  make  you  no  end  of  trouble.  Why, 
Tomlin,  you'll  cuss  yourself  for  it.  The  journey  you'll 
go  on  before  long,  and  you'U  go  much  easier  than  you'll 
come. " 

"  That  is  usually  the  case  with  all  my  journeys,"  said 
Tomlin,  as  he  removed  his  hand  from  his  face,  and  I  fancied 
that  he  was  paler  than  usual. 

Edith's  cup  was  tendered  next.  I  soon  saw  that  the 
young  lady  had  not  prompted  this  part  of  the  prophecy. 
"Mis.  Judson  assured  her  that  she  was  in  love. 

"  The  gentleman's  very  good-lookin',"  she  said  ;  "  got 
brownish  hair,  an'  wonderful  percen'  blue  eyes,  an'  light 
mestaches,  an'  he's  five  feet  ten  inches  an'  a  half,  an*  he's 
tattooed  H.  J.,  an'  he  war's  flannel  shirts,  an'  black " 

"  Mrs.  Judson !"  I  exclaimed,  seeing  that  Edith  was 
struggling  for  voice  to  interrupt,  "  do  stop.  Miss  Launey 
does  not  care  for  so  explicit  an  oracle.  The  tea-grounds 
can't  give  the  hero's  eyes  and  inches." 


150  RENSHAWE. 

Edith  coTild  only  look  her  thanks.  I  handed  my  cup 
to  the  housekeeper.  Probably  in  order  to  do  as  much 
for  me  as  for  Miss  Launey,  ^Irs.  Judson  informed  me 
that  I  was  very  much  in  love  with  a  gentleman  who  did 
not  as  yet  retui-n  the  attachment. 

"  If  I  knew  where  to  find  him,"  said  Tomlin,  "and 
could  have  an  hour's  conversation  with  him,  he  would 
not  remain  insensible  to  Miss  Renshawe's  merits,  through 
ignorance  of  their  existence." 

With  this  parting  compliment,  Tomlin  left  the  table, 
and  drew  back  to  the  chimney-piece,  where  he  stood 
gravely  in  the  shade,  and  after  a  few  words  to  Sally,  he 
quitted  the  apartment. 

"What  did  he  say,  Sally?"  questioned  ^Vliss  Launey, 
who  had  seemed  very  restless  during  the  communication. 

"  Wants  me  to  do  up  his  white  shirt,  and  have  it  ready 
for  to-morry  mornin'.  Thinks  of  goin'  visitin'  somewhar, 
I  guess." 

Edith  seemed  distui'bed.  A  clatter  in  the  kitchen  soon 
after,  caught  Mrs.  Judson's  attention.  She  opened  the 
door. 

"  Tomlin,  you  here  a  lightin'  the  dark  lantern  ?  What's 
that  for?" 

"  Tell  Singular  to  come  out  immediately — there  are 
thieves  in  the  hen-roost."  He  vanished  through  the  out- 
side door. 

"  Sally,"  said  Singular,  "  min  up  to  my  room  an'  fetch 
down  my  black  coat,  while  I  light  my  pipe.  I'm  feai-ed 
my  white  shirt  '11  skeer  the  thieves." 

"  Go  'long  out,  Sing'lar,"  shouted  ^Mrs.  Judson,  admin- 
istering a  strong  impelling  motive  ;  "  don't  you  want  to 
skeer  'em.  Tomlin's  gone  all  alone  ;  they  may  kill  him 
for  all  you  know." 

Singular  was  urged  on  his  way,  while  the  excited 
females  gathered  at  the  door  of  the  kitchen,  to  learn  the 


BLUE   HILLS.  151 

resiUt.  Outside  all  was  darkness  and  confusion,  except 
where  the  spark  from  Tomlin's  lantern  lit  his  way.  The 
hens  kept  up  a  vehement  cackling.  Mr.  Shaker's  voice 
was  just  audible  from  an  upper  window,  asking  what  was 
the  matter  ;  and  Singular  had  barely  passed  the  well- 
pole,  when  the  loud  report  of  a  pistol  sounded  at  the 
scene  of  disturbance. 

"  Laws,  I  hope  Tomlin's  other  leg  ain't  shot,"  said  Mrs. 
Judson,"  or  there'll  be  another  month's  job  of  it." 

Tomhn's  voice,  calling  to  Singular,  was  next  distin- 
guishable. Some  indistinct  bustle  ensued  at  the  granary, 
and  Singular,  turning  around  deliberately,  remarked  to 
his  auditors  at  the  kitchen  door — "  I  heerd  a  screech." 

IVIi's.  Judson,  who  had  taken  up  the  broomstick  as  a 
weapon  of  defence,  leveled  it  at  Twist  with  so  direct  an 
aim,  as  to  cause  him  to  quicken  his  pace.  We  waited  for 
some  moments  in  anxious  suspense,  till  the  glimmering 
rays  of  the  lantern  on  the  path  betokened  that  some 
intelKgence  awaited  us.  In  the  meantime,  Mr.  Shaker 
had  made  his  way  down  stairs,  in  his .  dressing-gown, 
anxiously  asking  the  cause  of  the  trouble. 

"  Some  half  dozen  robbers  arter  the  hens,"  said  Mrs. 
Judson  ;  "  and  Tomlin's  out  thar  seein'  to  'em.  Sing- 
'lar's  crawlin'  round  somwhar." 

Singular  soon  appeared.  Tomlin  would  be  along  di- 
rectly, he  said  ;  he  was  only  talkin'  to  somebody  out  at 
the  fence,  and  the  sound  of  two  voices  confirmed  this 
report,  as  well  as  the  stationary  gleam  of  the  lantern, 
which  was  poised  on  the  distant  fence.  It  was  Tomlin's 
pistol  that  had  been  fired.  "We  were  all  impatient  for  his 
reappearance,  and  the  door  was  thronged  by  an  anxious 
crowd,  till  a  hasty  step  sounded  on  the  pathway,  and 
Tomlin,  extinguishing  the  lantern,  came  in,  and  led  the 
way  to  the  back  sitting-room.  He  stated  that,  having 
heard  a  commotion  at  the  henroost,  he  had  gone  out  to 


152  RENSHAWE. 

see  what  was  the  matter.  Two  men  were  making  off 
with  a  double  prize  of  live  hens.  Tomhn  had  called  to 
them  to  drop  their  prey,  but  the  call  being  utterly  disre- 
garded, he  had  discharged  a  pistol.  He  thought  one  had 
been  wounded,  but  at  all  events  both  of  them  had 
dropped  their  booty,  and  made  off.  He  was  not  of  opinion 
that  they  would  trouble  the  henroost  again  that  night. 

"  Who  wus  that  ar',''  asked  ]SIrs.  Judson,  a-talkin'  to 
you  at  the  fence?" 

"  That  was  Elisha,"  rejoined  Tomlin. 

" The  zwave  Ehsha ?  you  don't  say  so!"  she  exclaimed; 
"  why  didn't  you  ask  him  to  come  in  ?" 

"  He  could  not  come  in,"  answered  Tomlin  ;  "  he  was 
here  with  a  message  to  me." 

The  late  incident  was  productive  of  all  the  excitement 
natui'al  in  any  family  whose  peace  had  been  disturbed. 
Mr.  Shaker  seemed  to  think  that  something  extra  should 
be  done.  He  even  said,  that  if  he  were  not  so  very  much 
afraid  of  taking  cold,  he  should  bring  down  his  blankets 
and  sleep  on  the  settee.  The  conversation  was  carried 
on  collectively  by  every  one  but  Tomlin,  who  stood  read- 
ing a  letter  at  the  table,  and  Edith,  who  sat  regarding 
him  attentively. 

"Does  it  not  strike  you,"  she  said  to  me  in  a  low 
whisper,  which  the  others  were  too  engaged  to  notice, 
"  that  Tomlin  is  offended  with  me  ?" 

I  had  not  noticed,  but  Edith,  who  seemed  much  per- 
turbed, came  up  to  him,  the  moment  the  letter  was 
finished,  and  asking  to  speak  to  him,  led  him  through  the 
hall  to  the  piazza.  As  soon  as  they  had  gone,  Singular, 
with  a  very  anxious  look,  after  shutting  all  the  doors, 
raking  the  fire,  shaking  his  head  and  sighing  heavily, 
declared  that  he  was  sorry  to  say  it,  but  something  in 
the  whole  affair  had  a  very  bad  look. 

Men  didn't  run  out  to  henroosts  so  sudden,  exposing 


BLUE  HILLS.  153 

their  lives  to  save  a  few  hens !  'twam't  human  natnr ! 
and  then  what  on  airth  was  Tomlin  out  thar  at  the  fence 
talkin'  so  long  to  a  man  for,  and  if  it  wus  the  zouave 
Elisha,  why  hadn't  he  come  in  ? 

"Shol"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Judson;  "ungrateful  creeter 
yon  air,  Sing'lar  ;  arter  all  Tomlin's  done  for  you,  to 
talk  about  him  that  way.  S'pose  his  life  to  save  hens ! 
sartin  he  would.  Hesn't  he  gone  out  in  the  pourin'  rains 
to  save  the  httle  chickens  from  gettin  drowned,  and  put 
'em  in  baskets  behind  the  stove  agin  and  agin  ?  Hasn't  he 
fed  'em  ever  since  they  wus  hatched,  and  spent  hours 
teachin'  'em  to  go  up  into  the  roost  o'  nights,  instead  o' 
flyin'  on  to  the  cherry  trees?  Who  shed  like  the  chick- 
en's ef  tain't  Tomhn  ?  and  ef  you've  fed  or  sheltered  a 
chicken  for  six  weeks,  my  name  ain't  July  Judson." 

"Wall,  thar  now,  woman  talk"  said  Singular,  sitting 
up  straight  in  his  chair,  while  his  eyes  sparkled  under 
the  broad  brim  of  his  straw  hat.  "  Ef  Tomlin's  fed  an' 
basketed  all  the  dyin'  chickens  in  North  Ameriky,  it 
don't  hender  what  I'm  a-sayin'.  No,  nor  it  don't  neither. 
And  what  I'm  a-sayin  is,  fur  a  man  to  hear  hens  cacklin* 
an'  walk  right  inter  a  roost  all  fuU  o'  deadly  robbers, 
an'  fire  pistols,  an'  talk  to  a  man  at  the  fence,  an'  say 
he  shot  two  men,  when  nobody  heerd  the  hens,  or  seed 
the  thieves  at  all,  I  say  it's  queer,  an'  so  it  is,  darned  queer." 

"An'  whose  fault  was  it,"  cried  Mrs.  Judson,  "that  no- 
body seed  the  thieves?  Ef  it  hadn't  been  fur  Tomlin, 
every  hen  in  the  roost  would  hev  ben  kerried  farther  than 
you'd  ever  a-gone  arter  'em.  Dear  knows  I  shoved  ye 
along  as  far  as  sech  a  tawtis  could  move,  and  why  wan't 
you  thar  I  say,  helpin'  pertect  the  property?" 

"Well  thar,  don't  holler  so,"  rejoined  Singular;  "Tom- 
lin's just  outside  thar,  whar  he'll  hear  it  all,  an'  I  don't 
want  him  to  know  that  I'm  suspicionin'  on  him.  Only  I 
say,  I  went  as  quick  as  I  could,  an'  not  a  mortal  thing 


154  RENSHAWE. 

did  I  see,  except  him  talkin'  to  some  feller  at  the 
fence." 

Mr.  Shaker's  grave  look  was  noted  by  Mrs.  Judson 
with  rising  indignation,  but  Tomlin  and  Edith  came 
back  too  soon  to  give  her  any  time  for  her  favorite's  de- 
fence. She  looked  unusuallv  grim  at  the  author  of  the 
mischief.  "  Go  lock  the  outhouses,  Singular,"  she  said  ; 
"  see  ef  yer  too  afraid  o'  yer  shadder  for  that :  an'  Sally, 
ef  Mr  Tomlin's  asked  you  to  do  anything  for  him,  why 
ain't  you  at  it  ? 

Sally  disappeared.  Twist  had  risen,  but  as  Tomlin 
volunteered  to  lock  the  outhouses,  sank  back  into  his 
seat.  "  Well  then.  Singular,  go  to  bed,"  said  Mrs.  Jud- 
son, and  as  Twist  looked  rebellious,  she  whispered  some 
private  sentences,  among  which,  some  threats  connected 
with  the  cattle,  bars,  china  tea-cup,  and  four  acre  lot, 
were  all  I  could  distinguish. 

Singular  vanished  with  a  crest-fallen  air,  and  when 
Tomlin  returned  from  his  tour  of  inspection  at  the  out- 
houses, Mrs.  Judson  officiously  handed  out  from  the  closet 
the  Conic  Sections,  Button's  Recreations,  and  the  remains 
of  a  huge  clay  cone  which  had  undergone  much  mutilation. 

"]Mr.  Tomlin  does  not  give  me  any  lesson  to-night, 
Mrs.  Judson,"  said  Edith,  gravely. 

Tomlin  intimated  that  he  would  be  very  happy  to 
give  the  lesson,  but  I\Iiss  Launey  di'ew  away.  Tomlin 
did  not  press  the  matter,  and  the  books  lay  unopened  on 
the  table.  A  constraint  seemed  to  have  fallen  on  the 
whole  party.  IMr.  Shaker  sat  with  an  undecided  air, 
looking  uneasily  at  Tomlin;  that  gentleman's  gravity  was 
quite  equaled  by  !Miss  Launey's.  Mrs.  Judson  was 
grim,  and  after  volunteering  one  or  two  remarks,  scarcely 
answered.     I  partook  the  general  silence. 

"Help!  help  !"  was  suddenly  called  from  anu]3per  win- 
dow; "July,  Tomlen,  fetch  a  light^come  quick — quick.'* 


BLUE   HILLS.  155 

"Laws,  what's  got  hold  o'  Sing'lar?"  exclaimed  Mrs. 
Judson. 

Tomlin  caught  the  light  and  ran  up  stairs,  followed  by 
the  housekeeper.  Mr.  Shaker  shook  like  an  aspen  leaf. 
Edith  and  I  were  considerably  agitated.  In  the  commo- 
tion up-stairs,  nothing  could  be  heard  from  below,  and 
we  could  only  bear  the  suspense  as  patiently  as  possible. 

"Tomhn  is  in  league  with  some  outsiders,"  Mr.  Shaker 
burst  forth  at  last.  "  I  shall  charge  him  with  it  when  he 
comes  down.  Stop  Edith,  don't  detain  me,  it  is  my 
duty  to  go  up,  child;  they  may  have  killed  JiiHa  and 
Singular  both,  by  this  time." 

Steps  sounding  above,  promised  to  end  the  suspense. 
!Mi's.  Judson's  voice  and  Tomlin's  laugh  were  reassuring. 
Mr.  Shaker  looked  quite  bewildered  as  they  came  down 
together  as  composed  as  usual. 

"  Did  you  find  him— the  man — where  was  he  ?"  he  asked. 

"  He  wus  under  the  bed,"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  stiffly. 
"  Boots  stuck  out  a  half  a  yard.  TomHn  hauled  hold  of  his 
heels,  an'  we  pulled  him  out  and  killed  him;  vest  wus  full 
o'  knives  an'  daggers.  Don't  know  what  would  hev'  be- 
come of  Sing'lar." 

Kendered  quite  tumultuous  by  these  ironic  observations, 
Mr.  Shaker  demanded  more  forcibly  what  was  the  matter. 

"  Only  a  wasp  that  Sing'lar  smelt— didn't  sting  him  ; 
he  hollered  afore  he  was  hurt." 

This  explanation  had  come  none  too  soon  for  my  com- 
fort. Mr.  Shaker  had  just  been  looking  daggers  at  Tom- 
lin, and  though  the  fact  had  escaped  the  young  gentle- 
man, Mrs.  Judson  had  noted  it. 

Edith  came  to  my  room  as  soon  as  I  had  gone  thither, 
to  give  me  the  details  of  her  conference  with  Mr.  Tomlin. 
Her  opinion  that  she  had  offended  him  was  not  a  mis- 
taken one.  Mr.  Tomlin  had  acknowledged  at  once,  that 
she  was  quite  correct  in  the  impression.     If  she  had  any 


156  RENSHAWE. 

curiosity  connected  with  him,  why  had  she  attempted  to 
satisfy  it  in  such  a  roundabout  way?  If  she  wanted  to 
know  any  more  about  him  than  she  knew  already,  she 
might  have  come  to  him  to  discover  it.  He  could  see  no 
excuse  for  her  conduct  at  aU,  except  in  his  firm  conviction 
that  women  were  made  for  intrigue. 

Edith  was  moreover  sure  that  ]Mr.  Tondin  would  never 
have  laid  the  matter  so  heavily  to  heart,  if  there  had  not 
been  something  concealed.  She  thought  he  was  some 
officer  of  rank,  or  state  official  in  disguise. 

"  Perhaps  he  is  the  Piince  of  Wales,"  said  I. 

Edith  was  fuUy  persuaded  that  he  was  not  James  Tom- 
lin.  Her  reason  was  given  as  conclusive.  "We  have 
never  heard  of  any  Tomlin,  Louise,"  she  said,  "  and  such 
a  man  as  he  is,  has  made  a  name  somewhere.  Think 
how  much  he  knows,  and  what  he  can  do !" 

"Yes,"  I  said  ;  "  think  of  the  three  clocks,  and  aU  the 
chickens !     He  will  make  his  mark  in  the  world." 

Edith  shook  her  head  solemnly,  but  wasted  no  farther 
argument  in  favor  of  the  disguise. 

Tomlin  was  the  last  one  up  in  the  domicile.  Either 
solicitude  for  its  safety,  or  some  more  selfish  motive,  kept 
him  on  inspection,  and  it  was  after  midnight  when  he 
passed  my  door. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 


)RS.  JTJDSON  made  an  early  apjDeal  to  ]Mi\  Shak- 
er's better  nature.  Early  the  next  morning,  she 
assailed  the  quiet  of  his  study,  and  their  conver- 
sation was  plainly  audible  to  me  through  the  open  doors 
of  the  upper  hall. 

"  Wouldn't  hev  "  TomUn  know  how  "  Sing'lar  talked  for 
anj'thing,"  she  said.    "Most  ongrateful  feller!  I  couldn't 


BLUE  HILLS.  157 

forget  it,  ef  anyone  had  done  so  much  for  me !  Jest  con- 
sider, Mr.  Shaker!  Ef  TomHn  was  in  league  with  thieves, 
why  did  he  Hght  a  lantern,  an'  caU  Sing'lar,  and  fire  a 
pistol?  I  wouldn't  be  so  tied  to  Sing'lar's  button-hole, 
Mr.  Shaker." 

"  Singular  is  very  valuable,"  said  Mr.  Shaker  earnestly, 
''and  this  past  month,  especially,  he  has  been  of  incalcu- 
lable service  to  me  ;  you  must  have  some  gratitude  towards 
him,   JuHa.     Only   consider  — he  has  close-mowed   the 
lawn  beautifully,  and  tied  up  aU  the  bushes,  and  staked 
the  young  trees.     The  place  reaUy  looks  like  fai?y-land." 
"Now,  cried  Mrs.  Judson,  "hez  that  feUer  imposed  on 
you  so  shameful  as  that,  Mr.  Shaker  ?     I'm  jest  goin'  to 
expose  that  man!    For  the  last  month  Sing'lar  has  done 
nothin'  on  earth  but  lounge  in  the  kitchen,  and  chaw 
tobaccy.     Ef  he  hears  you  a-comin'  he'U  go  to  overhaul- 
ing the  wood  in  the  wood-box,  or  fussin'  on  the  shelf,  as 
though  he  jest  stepped  in  a-lookin'  for  suthin'  ;  but  not  a 
tree,  nor  a  strawberry-bed,  nor  a  thing  in  the  garden, 
from  one  end  to  t'other,  hez  he  teched,  nor  a  boss  nor  a 
cow,  nor  a  hen,  nor  a  hen's  nest,  nor  a  hoe,  nor  a  water- 
pail,  nor  an  airthly  thing  in  any  outhouse  or  granary,  or 
cow-house,  or  stable.     Miss  Renshawe  was  sayin'   only 
yesterday  how  he  made  her  think  of  one  of  the  Easy's 
fables,  whar  Tiberus  Cesar  ran  roun'  the  garden  with  a 
waterin'-pot  every  time  he  saw  his  master  comin.'     That's 
as  much  Singular  Twist,  as  though  'twas  writ  for  him." 
"  Who  has  done  it,  pray?"  asked  Mr.  Shaker,  astonished. 
"Why,  Tomlin!"  shouted  Mrs.  Judson  with  emphasis, 
"ever  since  he's  been  able  to  get  out  of  doors!     Smg'- 
lar's  nicely  set  to  work  to  be  abusing  Tomlin,  I  think.  Oh, 
Mr.  Shaker!  sech  things  as  I  could  tell  you  about  Sing'- 
lar, only  I  promised  Tomlin  I  wouldn't!    but  if  I  don't 
say  nothin'  of  that  I  will  speak  up  for  Tomlen  ;  an'  I  say, 
Mr.  Shaker,  that  I  never  know'd  anybody  that  was  better. 


158  EENSHAWE. 

He  helps  me  every  airthly  way  he  can.  He's  a  gentle- 
man, every  inch  of  him.  It  ain't  this  di*ivin'  fast  horses, 
an'  shootin'  of  swallers  an'  robins,  makes  a  gentleman, 
Mr.  Shaker;  but  it's  yer  nateral  born  gentleman,  that 
comes  an'  takes  the  pail  from  an  old  woman  like  me,  an' 
kerries  it,  an'  that's  all  the  time  a-thinkin'  of  everybody 
else,  an  never  of  himself,  an'  that's  the  sort  of  gentleman 
he  is  ;  I  don't  care  if  he  hasn't  two  cents  in  his  pocket." 

"  Why,  Julia,"  said  'Mx.  Shaker,  "  you  need  not  try  to 
point  out  Tomlin's  good  qualities  to  me.  I  know  them 
all — many  more  than  you  see  in  him." 

"Then  if  you  see  more  good  in  him  than  I  do,  Mr. 
Shaker,  it's  very  surprisin'  you  hstened  to  Sing'lar,  an'  that 
you  know  you  did.  You'll  hev  to  choose  atween  Tomhn 
an'  Sing'lar,  Mr,  Shaker." 

"  Choose !"  cried  'Mjc.  Shaker,  "  why,  Julia,  there  can  be 
no  choice  between  them.  They  are  not  to  be  mentioned 
together!    Tomhn  is  quite  superior  to  Singular." 

"  Superer  to  Sing'lar,  wal — I  shed  think  he  was !" 

"  Listen,  Juha,  I  am  about  to  tell  you  why.  He  is  an 
educated  man,  and  he  has  quite  a  mechanical  genius — 
his  skill  in  mathematics  is  really  surprising." 

"And  thar's  the  clocks,  ]Mi\  Shaker!" 

"  Yes,  you  probably  think  more  of  the  clocks  than  the 
problems.  It  is  only  natui'al  that  you  should.  Of  course, 
Tomhn  is  quite  beyond  comparison  with  Singular  ;  but  I 
was  influenced  by  Singular  because,  although  he  is  veiy 
slow,  his  intuitions  are  marvelously  correct.  He  under- 
stands something  of  human  nature." 

"Wal,  ]Mi'.  Shaker,  ef  ye'll. excuse  me,  I'll  jest  say  he 
don't.  He  takes  his  own  natur  for  key,  an'  winds  up 
everybody's  clock.  ]Mr.  Shaker,  the  biggest  rogue  I  ever 
seen,  was  all  the  time  a-tellen*  how  much  he  knowd  of 
human  natur,  and  he  never  would  believe  that  anybody 
on  airth  would  teU  the  truth  whar  it  advantaged  'em  to 


BLUE  HILLS.  159 

tell  a  lie ;  and  he  stuck  to  that  for  a  principle,  an'  never 
would  trust  the  honestest  man  breathin' !  An  Sing'lar 
Twist  could  not  see  into  it,  nor  over  it,  nor  round  it, 
how  Tomlen  shed  go  into  that  henroost,  just  'cause  he 
hadn't  the  pluck  to  go  himself !  An'  then  sot  by  the  fire 
an'  tole  how  'twan't  human  natur  'caase  it  wasn't  his'n. 
]\Ir.  Shaker,  thar's  honest  natur,  thar's  dishonest  natur, 
and  kind  natur,  and  unkind  natur,  an'  it  may  be  all 
human  natur  ;  but  thar's  no  judgin'  one  man's  human 
natur  by  another  man's,  for  thar's  a  thousand  kinds  of 
human  nature.  What's  more,  all  the  ^.eddy  on  airth 
will  never  larn  human  natur — it's  observation  you  git  it 
by,  an'  it's  different  in  every  man  you  meet ;  and  'cause 
you  ain't  Hke  another  man  an'  ain't  got  the  key  to  his 
natur  in  yer  own,  its  unaccountable  to  you  what  he'U  do 
next,  an'  you  can't  teU,  unless  you've  seen  him  tried." 

Mr.  Shaker  had  Hstened  quite  patiently  to  this  ha- 
rangue.    The  housekeeper  leveled  another  shaft. 

"  Then  thar's  all  yer  books  that  Miss  Renshawe  saved 
for  you,  up  to  Caney  Fork — an'  she  thinks  Tomlin's  mag- 
nificent.    How  she'd  feel  ef  you  thort  he  stole  hens  ?" 

Mr.  Shaker  was  fairly  exasperated. 

"  Miss  Renshawe,  I  know,  thinks  well  of  Tomlin  ;  and 
the  dear  girl  did  save  my  books,  as  I  shall  never  forget  ; 
but  if  she  had  never  seen  Tomlin,  it  would  not  alter  my 
opinion  of  him  ;  and  that  opinion  of  him  is  good,  Julia ! 
Stole  hens — nonsense !  I  never  thought  any  such  thing ! 
A  man  thoroughly  versed  in  conic  sections,  navigation, 
and  surveying,  steal  hens!  You  are  more  absurd  than 
Singular ! 

"  Then  what  made  you  give  him  sech  black,  suspicious 
looks  last  night  ?  ]Mr.  Shaker,  if  you'd  a-thort  he  was 
deahn'  with  Satan  you  couldn't  a-been  more  overcast. 
And  we  heered  you  say  somethin'  when  we  was  comin' 
down  about  league  with  robbers.     Mi\  Shaker,  the  way 


160  RENSHAWE. 

you  treated  him  last  night  hurt  his  feelings,  I  know, 
though  he  said  nothin'  about  it." 

*'  Well,  I  was  misled  for  a  few  minutes,  but  I  will  en- 
deavor to  atone  to-day.  I  assui-e  you,  Julia,  he  needs  no 
defence  fi'om  you;  I  am  growing  more  attached  to  him 
daily,  and  if  he  will  consent  to  remain  here  through  the 
summer,  I  shall  propose  to  adopt  him  for  my  son." 

"  Ter  son !  Laws,  ^Ir.  Shaker,  it's  too  late  to  be  talkin' 
that  way.  He's  a-goin'  away  to-day.  Just  told  me  so 
down  stairs." 

"  Going  away !  What !  No — impossible !  He  can't 
leave  in  this  abrupt  way.     I  have  had  no  warning  !" 

"  Warnin' !  You  don't  pay  him  a  salary,  do  you  ?  He 
thinks  he's  been  a  burden  to  you.     I  s'pose  he  thort — " 

jMr.  Shaker  di'owned  the  rest  of  this  speech  by  a  hur- 
ried putting  away  of  books  and  audible  mournings.  ]Mi's. 
Judson  retreated  with  a  low  chuckle,  and  muttered, 
"  Ain't  a  bit  sori-y  for  you!"  as  she  descended. 

The  news  she  had  just  communicated  filled  me  with 
regi-et.  I  came  down  as  soon  as  possible.  IMrs.  Judson 
was  busied  in  preparing  breakfast,  and  I  hastened  to  the 
garden,  where  Tomlin  was  raking  a  small  patch  of  fi-eshly 
moved  earth,  at  which  he  had  been  busy  for  an  hour. 

"  Ai'e  you  going  to  day,  Mr.  Tomlin  ?"  I  asked. 

"Yes;  you've  resigned  guardianship,  and  I  must  take 
refuge  in  flight.  You  are  a  faithless  Mentor,  ^liss  Ren- 
shawe.  Here's  your  Telemachus  in  the  toils  of  Calypso, 
and  you  regard  his  fate  wholly  unmoved." 

"  If  Telemachus  is  so  well  able  to  save  himself,  he  does 
not  need  my  counsel.  But  you  leave  the  garden  all 
planted,  Mr.  Tomlin.  You  should  stay  to  put  in  the  suc- 
cessions; everything  will  come  at  once." 

"  I  know;  but  Judson  says  she  will  sell  all  that  is  going 
to  waste  of  the  first  crop,  and  buy  of  the  neighbors  later 
in  the  summer." 


BLUE  HILLS.  161 

Mrs.  Judson  called  us  to  breakfast,  and  we  went  in. 
Mr.  Shaker  seemed  quite  overcome  by  remorse.  His  at- 
tentions to  Tomlin  were  unceasing.  Too  much  could 
not  be  done  for  the  departing  guest,  nor  could  his  merits 
be  too  highly  exalted.  Edith  seemed  quite  miserable. 
Singular  had  relented  on  the  news.  He  walked  about 
sadTy,  and  declared  that  he  could  not  tell  what  he  was 
going  to  do  without  TomHn— what  Gusty  was  going  to 
do— what  the  chickens  were  going  to  do. 

"Chickens  was  alius  a-flockin'  arter  his  heels  every 
time  he  stepped  out,"  said  Singular,  "  an'  Gusty'll  miss 
him  powerful!" 

"  It's  your  fault  he's  a-goin,"  said  the  housekeeper. 
"Oh,  no,"  exclaimed  Tomlin.  "I  belong  to  the  army,  and 
my  furlough  is  nearly  out,  that's  aU.     Elisha  brought  me 
word  last  night;  and  I  must  go  to  Baltimore  a  few  days 
before  I  rejoin  my  regiment." 

For  two  hours  that  morning  Tomlin  remained  steadily  in 
the  garden— at  ten  o'clock  closed  the  gate  for  the  last  time. 
I  fancied,  as  he  stood  contemplating  the  scene  of  his  late 
labors,  that  some  regret  was  visible  in  his  face,  whether  in 
the  prospect  of  leaving  the  garden  to  Singular's  mercies, 
or  by  reason  of  the  associations  it  called  up.  He  gath- 
ered up  spade,  rake,  and  hoe  from  their  poise  against  the 
fence  with  a  nervous  hand,  and  consigned  them  to  the 
granary  as  though  he  expected  they  would  not  soon  be 
disturbed.  He  threw  a  handful  of  corn  to  the  chickens, 
watched  them  as  they  picked  it  up,  and  only  stopping  at 
the  kennel  to  pat  the  dog  on  the  head,  sauntered  into 
the  house. 

"Come  arter  some  fire  to  Hght  my  pipe,"  said  Mrs. 
Judson.  I  stood  leaning  from  the  window.  "  Tomlin, 
ken  you  rake  me  out  a  coal  ?" 

"  I  can  light  a  match,"  replied  the  young  gentleman,  as 
he  struck  several  on  the  hearthstone.     Edith  came  out- 


162  RENSHAWE. 

side  the  window.  At  first  glance  she  thought  me  alone 
in  the  room.  ^Irs.  Judson  was  quite  out  of  sight,  and 
Tomlin's  position  concealed  his  presence. 

"You  don't  seem  to  partake  the  general  sorrow,"  I 
remarked,  seeing  that  she  appeai'ed  quite  calm. 

"  Oh,  Louisa,  can  my  face  so  belie  my  heart  ?  Not  a 
soul  in  the  house  is  so  unhappy  as  I." 

"  Take  care,  Tomlin,  you  burnt  my  fingers  !"  exclaimed 
the  housekeeper.  Edith  colored  deeply,  and  walked  off 
to  the  lawn  with  the  gait  that  was  usual  to  her  states  of 
perturbation. 

*'  I  am  sorry  I  burnt  you,  lilxa.  Judson,"  said  Tomlin, 
apologetically.  **!  must  speak  to  Miss  Launey  a  min- 
ute." 

*'  Very  pale,  and  quite  dehberate,  Tomlin  followed  Edith 
to  the  gate.  At  ihat  point  they  stc^Dped,  and  a  dialogue, 
which  did  not  lack  the  feature  of  earnestness,  ensued. 
The  housekeeper  noted  the  interview  with  marked  unea- 
siness. 

"  He  can't  be  such  a  born  fool  as  to  go  to  making  love 
to  her  noiv,  can  he,  think.  Miss  Renshawe  ?  I  must  say 
that  if  ever  I  seen  a  woman  detarmined  to  entangle  a 
man,  it's  Miss  Launey." 

I  remained  very  thoughtful  on  the  subject  tiU  a  step 
outside  the  window  called  my  attention.  Tomlin  was 
coming  up.     The  look  he  gave  me  was  a  revelation. 

"  You  have  not  asked  her  to  marry  you?"  I  exclaimed. 

"  Yes — I  really  could  not  go  without  it." 

"  But  you  have  not  obtained  Mr.  Shaker's  consent  ?" 

"  I  am  going  up  now  to  obtain  it.  She's  going  to  man- 
age the  rest.  She  has  a  dozen  or  more  uncles  and  guar- 
dians.    Tkliss  Renshawe,  I  await  your  congratulations." 

"  I  will  congratulate  her,  not  you,"  I  said,  impulsively. 
"  My  honest  sentiment  is  that  you  are  throwing  yourself 
away." 


BLUE  HILLS.  163 

"  Thanli  you,"  replied  Tomlin.  "  You  may  see  tlie  sac- 
rifice spared  as  it  is.  Where's  Mr.  Shaker?  In  the 
study  ?" 

TomHn  was  in  the  study  some  time.  When  the  inter- 
view was  concluded  he  found  me  waiting  to  learn  the 
result  of  the  application. 

"  It's  a  desperate  case  now,"  said  he,  with  a  smile. 
"  Mr.  Shaker  gave  her  at  once  with  his  benediction;  but 
he  is  in  that  frame  of  mind  in  which  he  would  part  with 
half  his  hbrary  if  I  asked  it." 

"  Where  is  your  Dulcinea  ?" 

"  Gone  to  dress  for  an  interview  with  me.  You  may 
take  my  arm  up  to  the  woods  in  the  mean  time,  and  I'll 
have  a  cigar  before  she  reappears." 

We  walked  back  and  forth  for  some  time,  as  I  did  not 
care  to  lose  sight  of  the  house,  lest  Edith  should  return 
and  find  her  lover  away. 

"  I  did  not  ask  if  you  object  to  walking  with  me  lq  this 
coat,"  said  TomHn,  "  but  you  care  less  for  externals,  I 
beheve,  than  IVIiss  Launey  does." 

"Did  she  speak  of  a  coat,  Mr.  Tomlin?" 

"  Oh,  certainly,  she's  sensible  to  the  last.  She  told  me 
I  should  not  have  proposed  in  my  old  coat." 

Edith's  toilette  was  made  in  fifteen  minutes,  and  I 
resigned  my  companion. 

"  Tomlin  seems  to  hev  a  faculty  of  bewitchin'  the 
females  somehow,"  said  Mrs.  Judson  to  me.  "  Sally  gives 
up  to  a  cryin'  fit  every  time  I  mention  him,  an'  Miss 
Edith — really,  between  you  an'  me,  I  think  she's  out  of 
her  head.  She's  put  on  the  very  best  dress  she's  got,  an' 
her  dimond  earrings,  an  thar  she's  settiu'  on  the  bench 
under  the  maples  back  o'  the  garden,  talkin'  over  some- 
thki'  very  particular.  G-ot  her  best  lace  pocket  handker- 
chief, too,  a  techin'  it  up  to  her  eyes.  Couldn't  hardly 
credit  my  senses." 


164  RENSHAWE. 

"  Not  feeling  at  liberty  to  proclaim  the  engagement,  I 
asked  what  she  thought  of  the  chances  of  its  taking 
place. 

"I  siispicioned  that  they  were  engaged,"  said  'Mrs. 
Judson,  "  but  I  can't  really  think  TomHn  would  be  such 
a  fool.  He's  young,  an'  likely-looking,  an'  smart,  so  Mr. 
Shaker  says,  an'  she's  aggravatin'  an'  full  o'  notions. 
"What  sort  of  a  wife  would  she  make  for  him  ?  Why,  if 
I  wus  he,  I'd  rather  marry  Sally." 

The  hapjDy  couple  remained  undisturbed  until  dinner- 
time, when  Edith  was  obliged  to  spare  her  lover  to  other 
eyes.  She  appeared  the  most  insensible  of  the  company 
to  the  approaching  calamity.  Perhaps  I  did  her  injus- 
tice, but  it  seemed  that  the  sorrow  which  she  did  mani- 
fest was  mainly  forced  for  the  occasion. 

Tomlin  left  as  soon  after  dinner  as  he  could  gather  to- 
gather  the  few  articles  which  he  intended  to  take.  The 
remainder  were  bestowed  promiscuously  through  the 
family.  Some  private  adieus  were  Edith's  portion,  on 
which  the  parlor  door  was  closed;  and  by  after  tokens  I 
judged  that  her  lace  handkerchief  had  been  called  fre- 
quently into  requisition.  Tomlin  took  me  aside  before 
bidding  adieu  to  the  rest  of  the  family. 

"  I  have  one  request  to  make  of  you  in  parting,"  he 
said;  "it  is  simply  this:  that  whatever  hard  things  may 
be  said  of  me  hereafter,  wherever  you  hear  my  name 
mentioned,  you  will  suspend  your  judgment  until  you 
can  give  me  an  opportunity  for  seK  defence." 

I  promised  to  heed  this  charge,  and  Tomlin  continued: 

"We  have  lived  here  so  quietly  for  the  last  month,  that 
I  have  not  realized  until  this  time  how  highly  I  regard 
every  member  of  this  family.  To  your  faith  and  courage 
I  am  indebted  for  my  life;  in  acknowledging  that  debt  I 
can  only  say,  that  if  you  need  a  fi'iend,  or  rather  a  broth- 
er, I  beg  you  will  remember  who  would  serve  you ;  and  if 


BLUE  HILLS. 


165 


we  never  meet  again,  you  may  know  that  one  man  lives, 
who  holds  yoiu'  interests  as  dear  as  his  own,  and  who  will 
bless  you  with  his  latest  breath." 

After  this  conference,  Tomlin  hurried  to  bid  the  rest  of 
the  family  farewells  of  a  more  racy  character.  Before  I 
knew  it  they  were  over,  and  he  was  soon  disappearing 
down  the  path  to  the  village,  where  Sunset  had  been 
stabled  since  the  unlucky  day  of  his  escape  with  Gusty. 

Tomlin  left  behind  him  saddened  hearts.  Edith  retir- 
ed to  her  room  to  indulge  her  melancholy,  Mrs.  Judson's 
apron  was  at  her  eyes,  and  Sally,  hiding  her  head  behind 
the  table,  sobbed  outright. 

"Kindest  hearted  feUer  ever  lived,"  said  Mrs.  Judson. 
"  Kissed  Sally  an'  me  too,  when  he  went  away." 

"  Tole  me  to  take  care  o'  the  chickens,"  said  Sally,  "  an' 
so  I  will.  Ga-me  me  silver  dollar,  an'  I'll  bore  a  hole  in't, 
an'  wear  it  roun'  my  neck." 

"Lef  me  his  coat,"  sighed  Singular.  "Dear,  dear! 
s'pose  I've  got  to  be  feedin'  chickens  agin,  an'  ketchin' 
Gusty,  an'  it's  drefful  bad  work  for  me  to  ketch  him;  he 
runs  an'  runs  so,  an'  won't  be  coaxed  'cept  Tomlin 
coaxes  him." 

Eegrets  were  general.  I  was  quite  depressed  by  the 
loss  to  the  family  circle.  Mr.  Shaker,  after  expatiating 
on  his  regret,  as,  according  to  his  statement,  Tomlin  had 
been  more  than  a  son  to  him,  took  his  way  to  his  room. 

Tomlin  was  sadly  missed.  Edith,  in  particular,  grew 
very  disconsolate;  but  her  desolation  was  manifested  by 
an  increase  of  affectation,  and  an  increase  of  sentiment- 
alism. 

The  engagement  was  soon  confided  to  me.  Edith  in- 
formed me  that  Tomlin  had  scarcely  said  a  word  of  his 
circumstances  or  prospects,  and  did  not  expect  to  see  her 
again  before  Christmas. 

His  first  letter  arrived  in  the  course  of  a  week,  and 


166  RENSHAWE. 

as  it  contained  kind  remembrances  for  all  the  family, 
Edith  was  well  burdened  with  responses  to  go  in  her  next 
epistle. 

That  evening,  when  the  letter  was  answered,  and  all 
these  messages  had  received  attention,  Edith  demanded 
whether  I  had  anything  to  say  in  reply  to  mine.  I 
answered  rashly: 

"Ask  !Mr.  Tomlin,  in  my  name,  where  he  became  ac- 
quainted with  Ahce  Ludlow.-" 

Edith  was  curious,  but  I  adhered  strictly  to  the  terms 
of  the  message,  without  vouchsafing  any  explanation. 

I  repented  this  message.  A  presentiment  seemed  con- 
nected with  it,  and  I  actually  asked  Edith  to  copy  her 
letter  again,  and  omit  it.  She  was  just  coming  in  from  a 
morning  walk. 

"  You  make  no  allowance  for  the  punctuality  of  people 
in  love,"  she  said,  laughing.  "My  letter  is  just  posted, 
and  off  the  fii'st  mail." 

I  looked  for  the  answer  with  anxiety,  certainly  equal 
to  her  own,  but  days  passed,  and  the  answer  came  not. 


CHAPTER  XVn. 


|N  the  gi'eat  hall  clock  of  the  second  story,  the  hour 
of  midnight  had  sounded.  I  had  gone  to  rest  in 
an  uneasy  frame  of  mind,  and  it  seemed  for  some 
time  impossible  to  get  asleep.  With  the  dying  sound 
of  the  clock's  vibration,  I  sank  into  sliunber,  and  in  the 
semi-conscious  state  between  waking  and  sleeping,  my 
brain  was  visited  by  visions  that  partook  the  reality  of 
life,  and  the  vagueness  of  a  dream.  It  seemed  that  a 
low  moan  sounded  over  the  distant  plain  on  which  the 
moon's  half-circle  shone  ;  the  moon  grew  more  distinct 


BLUE  HILLS.  167 

and  nearer,  till  it  rose  into  the  distinct  and  plaintive  low- 
ing of  a  cow.  The  confusion  grew  more  bewildering  and 
intense,  till  the  prevailing  feature  of  the  scene  was  cattle 
everywhere.  I  was  in  a  dark,  moonless  forest,  the 
ominous  head  and  horns  of  a  bull  shadowed  forth  under 
every  tree,  with  faces,  white  and  black,  red  and  speckled, 
and  their  deep  voices,  alternating  with  a  bellow  and  a 
whine,  sounding  painfully  distinct  in  my  ear. 

I  was  startled  by  a  shake  of  the  shoulder.  Mrs.  Jud- 
son  was  at  my  bedside,  and  while  I  rubbed  my  eyes  with 
confusion,  the  same  noises  as  those  of  a  herd,  continued 
to  assail  my  faculties,  through  the  open  windows.  I  was 
fairly  awake.  "  What  is  the  matter,"  I  exclaimed,  trust- 
ing that  the  sound  of  my  own  voice  might  decide  whether 
I  was  the  sport  of  an  illusion, 

"  Lord  knows,"  repKed  Judson,  sententiously.  "  Eoad*s 
fuU  o'  cattle — men  a  prowlin'  round  the  yard.  I  didn't 
dare  to  light  a  candle.     What  shall  we  do  ?" 

"Eouse  Singular,"  I  said,  "and  I'U  si^eak  to  Mr. 
Shaker." 

Hurrying  on  a  part  of  my  clothes,  I  went  into  Mr.  Sha- 
ker's door,  and  rousing  him  to  consciousness,  made 
known  the  state  of  the  case. 

"  Call  Tomlin,"  was  his  first  exclamation.  "  You  can't, 
though,  he's  gone,  poor  fellow  ;  now  we  are  indeed  de- 
serted !" 

I  hurried  next  to  inspect  the  state  of  affairs  outside 
fi'om  the  windows  of  Tomlin's  vacated  apartment.  Mrs. 
Judson's  appeal  to  Twist  was  quite  audible  from  the  attic. 

"  Sing'lar,  Sing'lar,  what  on  airth — ain't  you  ever  goin' 
to  get  up  ?  I  tell  you  there's  men  a-pryin'  round  the 
stables,  an'  cattle  all  over  the  neighborhood." 

"  I  can't  help  it,"  cried^  Singular.  "  How  you  do  talk. 
I  sent  SaUy  to  lock  up  the  stables;  they  can't  get  iu  if 
they  try." 


168  KENSHAWE. 

The  figui'es  of  tlu'ee  men  were  now  dimly  seen  ap- 
proaching from  the  stables.  They  drew  up  under  the 
window  whereat  I  was  stationed. 

"I  say,  hallo  there  !" 

"  What's  wantinV'  demanded  IVIrs.  Judson,  who,  giv- 
ing up  SiQgular  ill  despair,  came  as  an  auxiliary. 

"Is  Tomhn  here — J.  Tomlin,  Esq?"*  demanded  the 
stranger. 

"I'm  soiTy  to  say  he  esn't.     Want  to  see  him  ?" 

Some  parley  ensued  among  the  party.  A  second  ques- 
tion followed. 

"When  did  he  go?" 

"This  mornin'.  I  forget  when,  exactly,"  returned 
Judson,  adding,  in  an  aside  to  me,  "  Southern  gawrillers, 
I  reckon." 

The  three  men  again  held  a  conference.  A  call  from 
the  fence  attracted  their  attention.  "  Simpson,  are  you 
going  to  be  all  night  ? 

"Turn  'em  in,"  emanated  from  this  respectable  body 
below  the  window.  I  heard  the  swing  of  the  gi'eat  gates, 
the  dim  white  horns  glancing  past  the  fences,  and  the 
tramp  of  hoofs  with  the  dismal  bellowing,  joined  to  the 
curses  of  the  drivers,  came  up  from  the  inclosure,  where 
the  foiTQs  of  the  red  bmtes  and  theu-  muzzles  on  the  fence 
were  scarcely  outlined  in  the  dim  hght  of  the  crescent 
moon. 

"Well,  this  is  gloris  biziness,"  said  INIrs.  Judson,  who, 
with  her  arms  restiag  en  the  window  sill,  had  contem- 
plated these  movements.  "  War  is  on  the  kentry  power- 
ful ;  I  wish  I  was  back  to  the  Noth." 

"  Good  heavens!"  !Mr.  Shaker  almost  shrieked.  "  Are 
these  men  crazy  with  audacity,  to  tui'n  a  herd  of  cattle  on 
my  premises  in  this  way  ?  Go  to  them,  Julia,  and  tell 
them  who  lives  here." 

"  I  'spect  they  know  that  well  enough;  been  askin'  for 


BLUE   HILLS.  luO 

Tomlin.     Lucky  he   ain't  here,  I  guess   they  meant   to 
take  him  off." 

"And  the  stable  door  open!"  exclaimed  Mr.  Shaker; 
"  and  the  barn — who  gave  them  the  key  ?" 

"Never  asked  for  none  ;  worried  'em  open  theirselves; 
they's  a  kind  that  doesn't  stop  for  keys.  Seem  to  be 
runnin'  into  the  gi*anary  an'  cow-houses." 

"Thieves  and  plunderers,  bloody  rascals!"  said  ^Mr. 
Shaker.  "  I  shall  shut  myself  in  the  Hbrary  and  remain 
there.  Satisfy  their  demands,  Juha,  and  if  they  can  be 
sent  away  peaceably,  send  them." 

Determined  to  perish  in  the  midst  of  his  books,  Mr. 
Shaker  drew  away  in  the  silence  of  heroism.  Another 
messenger  came  to  the  back  door,  where  he  rattled 
tumultuously. 

"  Say,  why  the  devil  don't  you  open  your  doors  ?  Say, 
we're  goin'  up  to  the  dram-shop,  and  meantime  you  must 
kill  a  dozen  cocks  an'  make  us  a  pot-pie.  Stir  yerselves 
now,  and  don't  let  us  catch  you  with  the  stuff  not  done 
when  we  come  back." 

"Now  I'm  set  to  work,"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  clambering 
up  the  staircase.  "  Whar's  Sally  ?  a  sleepin'  through  all 
this  row  ?  Sing'lar,  I  s'pect,  ain't  got  one  stockin'  on  yet. 
Miss  Kenshawe,  ef  you'll  call  Sally  to  know  what  she 
did  with  the  axe,  I'll  get  the  fire  goin'.  Then  I  must  go 
through  all  those  live  horns  arter  the  chickens.  Lord 
help  us,  what  is  the  kentry  comin'  to  ?" 

I  soon  roused  Sally,  who  scuttled  directly  into  her 
clothes.  The  fire  was  kindled,  the  hens  caught  and 
dispatched,  and  stripped  as  fast  as  three  pair  of  hands 
could  bring  it  to  pass.  Our  expedition,  great  as  it 
was,  we  feared  would  not  meet  the  emergency. 

"  You  see  it's  impossible  for  me  to  make  those  chick- 
ens boil  any  faster  than  they  can,"  said  she.     The  hour 
passed,  and  as  Mrs.  Judson  was  lifting  the  heavy  kettles 
8 


170  RENSHAWE. 

off  the  fire,  a  clatter  at  the  porch  announced  the  return 
of  the  cattle  drovers, 

"  Miss  Kenshawe,  you  take  Sally  up  to  the  libry,  an' 
stay  thar,"  said  the  housekeeper;  "out  o'  the  way  o' 
them  vagabonds.  I'll  take  care  on  'em  down  here.  1 
called  Miss  Launey,  but  I  reckon  she's  a-di'essin'  yet.  I 
see  she's  commenced  to  haul  out  her  brushes  an'  cums." 

IMiss  Launey  was  with  Mr.  Shaker  in  the  library- 
Both  were  highly  ax^prehensive  of  the  result  of  this 
noctui'nal  visit.  The  tumult  in  the  kitchen  was  such  as 
to  reach  our  ears,  distinctly  inspiring  emotions  of  a 
painful  kind.  Coarse  shouts,  boisterous  songs,  and  rude 
hilarity,  divided  its  character.  And  afterward  the  sound 
of  some  hea^y  object  rolled  on  the  floor,  attracted  our 
attention.  Our  suspense  was  relieved,  or  rather  termin- 
ated, by  IVIrs.  Judson. 

"  Act  like  so  many  devils  incarnate,"  she  said ; 
"slammed  all  the  pot-pie  they  couldn't  eat,  over  the  wall 
and  winders,  an'  upset  the  soup  on  th^e  carpet.  They've 
gone  down  cellar  now  to  see  what  thar  is  thar,  and  I 
s'pect  they'll  kerry  all  afore  'em,  Sing'lar's  gone  to  show 
*em  the  way;  they'll  deal  very  massiful  with  him,  I 
s'pose." 

"  I  hope  so,"  sighed  Mr.  Shaker,  "  but  I  trust  he  will 
not  bring  any  of  them  to  the  library." 

A  call  utterecTby  Singular,  fi'om  the  head  of  the  stair- 
way, summoned  ]\Ii'S.  Judson.  "  Hurry  July,"  he  said ; 
"the  captain  is  come,  and  you've  got  to  get  supper  for 
him." 

"A  captain  too,  eh?"  exclaimed  Mr.  Shaker;  "this 
appears  to  be  a  serious  matter." 

"  Seris  enough  ef  he  wants  anything  to  eat,"  said  Mrs. 
Judson  ;  "  but  thar  seems  to  be  a  lull  out  thar  ;  I  hope 
he's  makin'  'em  behave." 

The  lull  did  not  last  long,  however.     The  clamor  grew 


BLUE   HILLS.  171 

excessive ;  a  voice  made  itself  heard  at  last,  in  accents 
which  sounded  familiar  to  me  ;  a  step  sounded  in  the 
hall,  the  door  of  the  hbrary  opened,  and  an  officer  in 
uniform  crossed  the  threshold.  Almost  stunned  by  the 
recognition,  I  could  scarcely  repress  the  name  at  my  lips 
"  Captain  Charles  Berkley."  It  was  the  same  slight  and 
gTaceful  figure,  the  same  unmistakable  lineaments,  the 
cold  blue  eye,  the  soft  and  cruel  Hps,  the  thin  spare  fea- 
tures and  closely  cropped  hair.  Captain  Berkley  just 
touched  his  military  cap  in  acknowledgment  of  the 
presence  of  ladies,  then  taking  a  little  book  from  his  belt, 
and  a  pencil  from  behind  his  ear,  he  addressed  Mr.  Shaker. 

"  What  is  your  name,  sir  ?" 

It  was  given. 

"  And  what  place  is  this  ?" 

The  place  was  suppHed.  Captain  Berkley  noted  both 
these  items,  remarking  : 

"  We  are  under  the  necessity  of  taking  away  three 
cows  and  one  horse  found  on  your  premises." 

"Good  heavens!"  exclaimed  'Mi\  Shaker;  "you  may 
have  the  cows,  sir,  but  it's  the  worst  possible  measure  to 
take  Gusty  ;  I  really  must  object  to  that;  he's  spavined 
in  the  left  hind  leg,  and  can't  hve  twenty  miles  of  the 
journey." 

"  He  does  seem  to  be  like  an  old  rack  of  bones  to  be  sure," 
repHed  Captain  Berkley,  still  proceeding  with  his  notes, 
"  but  I  think  I  can  overrule  your  objection.  One  of  the 
baggage  horses  has  just  died,  and  your  nag  must  replace 
him  as  long  as  he  lasts.  I've  booked  your  cattle,  and  if 
you  will  give  your  estimate  of  their  worth,  I  will  charge 
it  to  the  account  of  the  Confederate  States." 

"When  am  I  to  be  paid?"  asked  Mr.  Shaker,  anx- 
iously. 

"  AVhen  the  war  is  over,  sir,"  returned  Berkley  ;  "  so 
put  on  your  price." 


172  RENSHAWE. 

"It  will  be  all  the  same,"  I  remarked  ;  "  whether  that 
is  much  or  little." 

]VIr.  Shaker  looked  at  me  bewildered. 

"  We  are  all  good  secessionists  here  sir,  he  said  ; 
"  every  one  of  us  devoted  to  the  Confederacy,  and  it  wiU 
owe  us  some  gratitude  as  weU  as  money.  The  cows 
are  worth  about  forty  dollars  apiece,  and  I  think  Gusty, 
having  been  a  very  good  horse  in  his  day,  should  be 
valued  at  about  a  hundred  and  twenty-five. 

"Pshaw!"  ejaculated  Captain  Berkley;  whose  pencil 
stopped  while  his  blue  eyes  tiu'ned  to  Mr.  Shaker's  face. 
"  That's  too  flagrant  a  shave.  Very  devoted  you  must 
be  to  the  Confederacy,  to  put  on  such  a  price." 

"  I  am  devoted  to  the  Confederacy,"  said  Mr.  Shaker, 
bringing  down  his  cane  with  emphasis  on  the  floor  ;  but 
I  think  a  gi'eat  deal  of  Gusty,  and  I  know  if  he's  driven 
before  a  baggage  wagon  he'll  have  to  travel  fast,  and 
he's  not  used  to  that  sir,  for  my  man  Twist  is  a  moderate 
driver.  Then,  again,  your  soldiers  will  neglect  to  give 
him  his  oats,  (your  men  are  very  careless,)  and  he  won't 
be  used  to  his  stable,  and  he'll  be  very  homesick.  I  would 
rather  give  you  his  price  sir  in  gold  on  the  spot,  and 
though  I  won't  say  anything  about  the  cows,  I  should 
think  you  had  cattle  enough  in  my  yards  to  feed  the 
whole  Southern  Confederacy." 

"Gold  on  the  spot,  eh?"  echoed  Berkley  ;  "well,  pay 
it  over  and  you  may  keep  your  horse  at  your  own  price, 
a  hundi'ed  and  twenty-five  dollars.  I  can  buy  as  good  a 
one  for  ten." 

"  How  much  ?"  cried  INIr.  Shaker,  aghast.  "  My  dear  sir, 
I — I — I  really — why  I  should  think  you  might  be  content 
to  let  me  keep  him  at  half  price.  Gusty  is  quite  an  ex- 
pensive horse.  Sixty-two  dollars  I  will  J3ay  you  directly. 
Remember,  we  are  good  secessionists.  There's  our  flag 
in  the  corner." 


BLUE  HILLa  173 

"I  see,"  said  Captain  Berkley,  going  to  the  corner  and 
unfurling  the  article  in  question.  "  Here's  another  flag 
behind  the  clock,  that  makes  two."  He  unrolled  as  he 
spoke  the  banner  of  the  United  States. 

"  Yes,  here  it  is,"  he  proceeded,  holding  it  up  to  the 
light  ;  "here  it  is,  thii'teen  stripes,  no  end  of  stars, 
eagles  and  all." 

"  Sir,  sir,"  said  Mr.  Shaker,  trembling  with  agitation, 
"  the  other  is  the  Southern  flag.  That  we  only  keep  to 
hang  out  when  the  Union  soldiers  come,  to  prevent  their 
carrying  off  our  property." 

"And  the  other,"  said  Berkley,  "you  hang  out  when 
the  rebels  come  to  prevent  them  fi'om  executing  like 
measures.     What  an  old  sinner  you  are !" 

IVIr.  Shaker,  rising  with  an  air  of  desperation,  went  to 
his  desk,  through  which  he  sought  and  drew  out  at  last 
the  paper  which  Tomlin  had  given  me  on  the  first  day  of 
my  meeting  with  him,  enjoining  all  Confederate  soldiers 
to  respect  his  property.  Captain  Berkley  held  the  paper 
to  the  Hght,  looked  closely  at  the  signature,  and  restored 
the  document  to  Mr.  Shaker,  who  stood  in  suspense. 

"In  this  case,"  he  observed,  "I  shall  be  reduced  to 
make  a  bargain  with  you.  Under  our  present  necessi- 
ties, Governor  Chives  could  have  no  objection  to  our  tak- 
ing one  animal  out  of  the  four." 

"One  of  the  cows,"  said  IVIr.  Shaker,  eagerly. 

"No,  I  think  we  need  the  horse  more;  but  if  you  wiU 
give  us  the  three  cows  in  exchange  we'll  take  them. 
They  are  worth  altogether  about  one  hundred  and  twenty 
dollars,  and  the  extra  five  I'll  throw  off  in  consideration 
of  your  extraordinary  devotion  to  the  Southern  Confed- 
eracy." 

"  You  are  very  reasonable,  sir,"  said  IVIr.  Shaker, 
recovering  from  the  unfortunate  episode  of  the  flag, 
which  he  motioned  Sally  to  spii-it  away  from  the  disloyal 


174  RENSHAWE. 

presence.  "  There  is  one  thing,  however,  of  which  I  feel 
it  necessary  to  speak.  My  books,  here,  are  quite  valua- 
ble, as  you  may  perceive.  They  comprise  a  library  of 
three  thousand  volumes.  They  were  canned  off  once  by 
a  party  of  Southern  soldiers,  and  if  you  will  speak  to  your 
men  and  repress  their  disposition  to  roam  about  the 
house,  I  shall  be  much  indebted  to  you." 

"  Oh,  they'll  not  meddle  with  your  books,  M  promise," 
said  the  captain ;  "  we  are  merely  a  foraging  party  in 
search  of  provisions.  I  will  tell  my  men  not  to  take  any- 
thing from  your  cellar  or  outhouses." 

"Thank  you,  sii' — thank  you,  sir;  greatly  obliged  to 
you,"  said  Mr.  Shaker,  and  as  ^Irs.  Judson  summoned 
the  captain  to  supper  he  bowed  and  withdi-ew. 

It  was  a  period  of  cruel  suspense.  Captain  Berkley's 
presence  seemed  to  do  little  enough  in  awing  the  soldiers 
into  silence.  Boisterous  laughter  resounded  from  the 
sitting-room.  Loud  cheers  proclaimed  to  whose  honor 
their  potations  were  dedicated. 

"  Here's  to  Captain  Berkley.     HuiTah  !" 

"Here's  to  Governor  Chives!"  More  shouting.  Next 
followed  the  name  of  "Jeff  Davis;"  finally,  "Here's  to 
Tomlin !" 

This  toast  was  drank  several  times  in  the  course  of  the 
night,  among  many  others  that  seemed  to  promise  neither 
ale  nor  cider  in  ^h\  Shaker's  cellar  by  morning. 

The  clang  of  the  gate  at  last  heralded  the  departure  of 
the  unwelcome  guests.  As  I  looked  fi'om  the  library 
windows  I  saw  the  first  breaking  of  dawn  over  the  sky, 
illuminating  in  its  misty  light  the  tops  of  the  neighbor- 
ing hills,  and  the  sombre  waste  of  forest.  The  herd  was 
winding  its  way  through  the  gates,  celebrating  its  reluc- 
tance to  quit  the  late  j)astures  with  lowings  and  bellow- 
ings  reverberating  through  the  hills.  The  foraging 
wagons  followed  in  the  rear  of  the  herd;  and  the  whole 
train  soon  wound  its  way  along  the  highroad. 


BLUE   HILLS.  175 

I  rushed  down  to  the  sitting-room  where  were  the 
housekeeper  and  Mr.  Shaker,  exclaiming  in  tones  of  the 
utmost  deHght,  "  Thank  Heaven,  the  cruel  wretches  have 
all  gone!" 

IVIrs.  Judson  gave  me  a  hasty  nudge,  and  I  perceived, 
to  my  horror,  that  all  the  recent  guests  had  not  departed. 
Captain  Berkley  was  throwing  back  several  letters  into 
the  mail-bag  which  Singular  was  holding  open.  Two 
epistles  lay  on  the  dresser.  The  mail-bag  was  closed,  and 
Twist  bidden  to  "  get  the  horse." 

"  "What  is  your  name  ?"  asked  Berkley,  turning  to  me. 

"Louisa  Eenshawe." 

"  Call  the  other  young  lady,"  he  added,  to  Mrs.  Jud- 
son. 

Edith  answered  the  summons  immediately.  Captain 
Berkley  presented  her  with  an  open  letter,  asking  whether 
she  knew  the  hand-wi'iting.  Edith  assented.  Berkley 
asked  the  name,  and  she  replied,  "  IVIr.  Tomlin." 

Captain  Berkley  walked  to  the  window,  and  stood 
there  long  enough  to  study  every  line.  We  awaited  the 
result  in  no  little  anxiety.  The  captain  asked  Mr.  Shaker 
for  the  paper  shown  him  in  the  library.  Mr.  Shaker  pro- 
duced it,  and  it  underwent  a  second  inspection.  Berkley 
compared  it  closely  with  Tomlin's  letter,  and  his  brow 
grew  dark.  !Mi\  Shaker's  name  and  place  of  residence 
were  the  only  two  words  in  Tomlin's  hand. 

*'  You  might  as  well  throw  away  that  piece  of  paper," 
said  the  captain,  returning  it  to  the  host;  "  It  isn't  worth 
a  rush."  He  turned  to  Edith.  "How  long  have  you 
known  this  Mr.  Tomlin  ?  " 

"About  four  weeks  or  five,"  she  replied. 

"  You  are  engaged  to  him,  I  presume  ?" 

Edith  assented. 

The  captain  handed  her  the  letter  without  a  word  of 
apology  for  having  inspected  it  then  he  took  the  other 


176  KEKSHAWE. 

fi'om  the  table,  and  looked  the  contents  through.  This 
document  I  saw  was  in  the  hand  of  my  sister  Cassy. 

"  I  would  not  advise  you,"  he  said,  courteously,  to  me, 
as  he  gave  me  the  letter  with  the  air  of  a  king  who  con- 
fers a  title,  "  to  leave  Blue  Hills  to-day.  There  are  for- 
aging parties  out,  both  north  and  south;  but  to-morrow 
it  will  be  quite  safe  to  travel." 

"  Hoss  is  ready,"  said  Singular,  obsequiously.  Berk- 
ley bowed  a  general  farewell,  and  walked  out. 

"Heavens!  he  is  going  to  cari-y  away  Gusty!"  ex- 
claimed Mr.  Shaker,  in  great  trepidation,  as  he  viewed 
from  the  window  the  movements  of  Captain  Berkley,  who 
was  unstrapping  the  saddle  from  the  back  of  a  coal  black 
steed,  presenting  the  greatest  imaginable  contrast  to  the 
quadruped  alluded  to. 

"Don't  be  scart,"  said  the  housekeeper.  "Singlar 
was  a-tryin'  to  be  quick,  an'  so  put  on  the  saddle  hind- 
side  afore.  Don't  you  see  the  captain's  flopj^ed  it  round. 
Thank  Heving,  he's  orf.  Never  was  so  glad  to  see  a  man 
go  in  all  my  bom  days !  Laws,  ]Mi'.  Shaker,  he  wouldn't 
take  Gusty.  "Why,  he  said  the  hoss  looked  wuss  by  day- 
light than  he  did  in  the  dark." 

Edith  and  I  walked  off  together  to  peruse  the  letters 
in  the  retirement  of  the  summer  house.  Mine  was  dated 
two  days  previous,  and  ran  as  follows: 

**Deae  Louise  • 

"I  write  in  great  haste  to  tell  you  that  I  have  had  a  letter  from 
mamma,  and  she  entirely  approves  the  engagement.  She  formerly 
knew  the  Herveys  well;  so  it  is  all  public  now.  Herveyhas  been  here 
everyday,  and  everybody  wondered  that  I  had  no  such  announcement 
to  make  before.  Galusha  had  also  given  his  cordial  approval.  I  must 
see  you  at  once.  Kemembe'r  I  have  had  nobody  to  talk  to  in  so  long. 
We  all  think  you  have  staid  long  enough  in  Blue  Hills,  so  lose  no 
time  in  coming  to  Washington.     Give  my  best  love  to  dear  Mr.  Sha- 


BLUE   HILLS.  177 

ker,  and  say  I  am  sorry  to  lose  my  visit  to  him,  but  it  seems  impos- 
sible to  come  just  now,  arid  don't  fail  to  come  here  immediately. 

Your  afi'ectionate  sister, 

Cassy  Renshawe. 
P.  S.     Galusha  has  a  commission  in  the  volunteer  army. 

Edith  called  my  attention,  as  I  finished  the  perusal  of 
this  note,  to  a  message  sent  to  me  by  Tomlin,  in  the  fol- 
lowing words  :  "  Tell  Miss  Kenshawe  that  I  send  by  the 
same  mail  an  answer  to  her  inquiries,  which  will  prove 
satisfactory."  What  had  become  of  this  letter,  was  an 
anxious  question,  and  after  some  discussion  we  could 
only  decide  that  it  had  been  withheld  by  Captain  Berk- 
ley among  several  others,  which  I  noticed  he  had" retained. 

Our  communications  were  interrupted  by  the  sum- 
mons to  breakfast,  and  we  came  in  to  join  Mr.  Shaker 
and  Mrs.  Judson  at  a  repast  of  coffee  and  johnny-cake, 
to  which  we  sat  down  with  more  gratitude  in  our  hearts 
than  was  generally  accorded  to  superior  fare. 

"  The  cap'n  kep  'em  out  of  the  steddy,"  said  Mrs.  Judson, 
"but  they've  ben  into  every  other  hole  in  the  house  1 
Made  me  fairly  sick  this  mornin'.  One  room  was  up  side 
down,  an'  the  next  was  down  side  up,  an'  the  next  up 
side  down  again,  an'  so  on,  all  through.  Sally  an'  Fs  ben 
ever  since  sunrise  a-clarin'  up  this  sittin'-room.  Sing'lar 
Twist  he  seen  that  capting  leap  the  fence,  boss  an'  aU, 
an'  he's  stood  struck  to  the  spot  ever  since,  I  s'pect." 

"Singular  is  faithful,"  sighed  Mr.  Shaker;  "I  heard 
the  captain  tryin'  to  persuade  him  to  take  Gusty  and  join 
his  cavalry." 

"  Wus  pokin'  fun  at  him  then,"  said  Mrs.  Judson,  "  I 
heard  him,  too.  Said  the  boss  could  move  as  fast  as  Sing- 
'lar could." 

"  Clock's  a-standin  on  its  head,"  said  Sally,  who  was 
engaged  in  her   duties   as   attendant.     "Wonder  what 
Tomlin  would  say  if  he  saw  that!" 
8* 


178  RENSHAWE. 

The  mention  of  Tomlin  brought  a  certain  gravity  to 
every  face.  As  soon  as  Sally  had  been  dismissed  to  Sin- 
gular's company  in  the  kitchen,  the  subject  was  opened. 
It  was  certainly  a  most  shocking  fact  that  his  health  had 
been  drunk  the  night  before  by  a  set  of  rebels.  Edith 
resigned  herself  to  the  contemplation  of  the  evidence 
with  more  calmness  than  I  had  anticipated.  It  was  all 
weighed  fi'om  beginning  to  end,  and  the  conclusions 
arrived  at  were  quite  natural.  His  nocturnal  visit  to  Mr. 
Shaker's  premises — his  possession  of  a  paper  signed  by 
KiUian  G.  Chives — his  obstinate  refusal  to  accompany  me 
on  the  expedition  to  Caney  Fork,  after  having  set  out  for 
that  purpose — his  employing  the  two  zouaves  as  spies, 
and  Elisha's  coming  the  night  before  his  departure,  were 
suspicious  circumstances,  which  had  all  been  outweighed 
in  my  mind  by  his  fi'ank  avowal  of  his  devotion  to  the 
Union  cause.  Even  Mi\  Shaker  shook  his  head  when 
these  circumstances  were  reviewed.  I  alleged  that  I  had 
once  accused  him  of  being  a  secessionist  spy,  and  he  had 
not  denied  it. 

"  He  is  a  Southern  man,"  Edith  said,  "  that  I  cannot 
doubt.  I  was  conversing  with  him  here  one  morning,  and 
I  remarked  on  the  sin  of  slavery;  used  some  quite  strong 
expressions,  and  he  flushed  up  suddenly,  and  said  to  me, 
'  ]\Iiss  Launey,  you  are  talking  to  a  member  of  a  slave- 
holding  family.'" 

"  Has  he  told  you  nothing  of  his  family  ?"  asked  Mr. 
Shaker. 

"  Nothing,  Uncle  Shaker.  He  owns  that  something  is 
left  unexplained,  but  he  is  very  sui'e  that  all  will  be  satis- 
factory when  it  is  made  known." 

"  'WTien  do  you  write  to  him  ?" 

"My  first  letter  was  sent  to  Baltimore;  but  he  says  in 
this  one  that  I  am  to  wait  for  his  next  letter  to  learn  his 
address  at  present.'* 


BLUE  HILLS.  179 

One  thing  puzzles  me,"  said  Mr.  Shaker.  "  If  he  is  a 
secessionist,  why  should  Captain  Berkley  say  nothing  in 
his  favor?  I  thought,  this  morning,  he  seemed  incHned 
to  sneer  when  his  name  was  mentioned." 

"  He  does  not  seem  to  like  the  Berkleys,"  said  Edith  ; 
"  seems  very  reticent  on  the  subject." 

"Then,"  said  I,  struck  by  a  sudden  thought,  "they 
know  something  to  his  disadvantage.  His  refusal  to  go 
to  Caney  Fork,  came  immediately  after  I  informed  him 
that  Captain  Berkley  and  Colonel  Hunter  were  at  Kocky 
Cross.     He  feared  to  fall  into  theii'  hands." 

"  That's  it,  child  ;  you  have  it  now,"  said  Mr.  Shaker  ; 
"  and  he  would  not  see  Captain  Berkley  here  ;  he  had 
received  some  intimation  of  his  coming,  and  avoided  him." 

"Then  he  may  not  be  a  rebel,  arter  all,"  said  Mrs. 
Judson. 

A  vague  recollection  came  into  my  mind.  It  flashed 
upon  me  now  vividly.  I  remembered  his  name  when  I 
first  had  heard  it  in  the  mouth  of  a  conspirator,  one 
night  of  that  same  year,  at  the  Black  Kobin  Club. 

"Mrs.  Judson,"  said  I,,  sadly,  "I  am  sorry  to  say  on 
my  knowledge  that  he  is  a  rebel  and  a  spy." 

Slow  as  we  had  been  to  believe  aught  against  Tomlin, 
we  were  forced  to  admit  that,  in  professing  to  be  a  Union 
soldier,  he  had  lived  for  six  weeks  in  Mr.  Shaker's  family, 
under  false  pretences.  Edith  declared  her  intention  of 
telling  him  she  could  not  write  again  until  the  mystery 
that  attached  to  him  was  cleared  up. 

"It's  a  very  strange  thing,"  said  ]Mi\  Shaker,  as  he 
rose  from  the  table,  "  and  I  can't  understand  it-^how  a 
man  of  such  a  mathematical  turn  of  mind,  who  solves 
problems  that  have  jnizzled  a  coUege  professor,  and  un- 
derstood navigation  and  surveying  so  thoroughly,  should 
be  nothing  but  a  spy." 

Ml'.  Shaker  and  his  niece  left  for  the  study,  where  they 


18 '3  RENSHAWE. 

consulted  for  some  time  in  private.  Mrs.  Judson  sat 
moodily  over  tlie  salver,  contemplating  the  figures  on  the 
silver  teapot,  in  a  fit  of  unusual  abstraction.  At  last  she 
looked  up  and  caught  my  eye  ;  her  featiu'es  changed. 

"  They  may  all  say  what  they  like,"  said  she,  bringing 
down  her  closed  fist  with  emphasis  on  the  table,  "but  I 
ain't  a-goin'  to  beheve  anything  agin'  TomUn  ;  I  don't 
car'  whether  it's  in  black  or  white.  I  s'pose  he's  a  rebel 
'cause  you  say  so  ;  but  what  ef  he  is  ?  Ef  he  is  I  shall 
never  say  nawthin'  agin  rebels  any  more." 

"  Mrs.  Judson !" 

"Yes,  Miss  Renshawe,  thar's  some  folks  up  Nawth 
that'll  come  up  at  the  Judgment  day,  expectin'  to  see 
every  man  that's  fit  in  the  Southern  army  sent  ofi"  down 
below,  without  grace  ;  an'  it's  my  solemn  belief  they'll 
get  disap23ointed.  But  as  for  Tomlen,  rebel  or  no 
rebel," — the  housekeeper  rose,  and  her  face  lit  up  with 
a  sudden  excitement — "  I'll  say  this  :  I  had  a  son,  an'  he 
died  among  strangers  ;  an'  that  night  that  Tomlen  looked 
up  at  me  with  his  wild  eyes,  an'  said  '  mother.'  I  tell  you 
I  thort  of  my  own  j)ooi'  boy,  and  my  heart  warmed  to 
him  then,  and  it's  never  got  cold,  nor  never  will  ;  and 
you  may,  all  of  you — Miss  Launey,  that's  his  promised 
wife,  and  you  that  took  his  hand  as  his  fiiend,  and  saved 
his  life,  which  you  sartin  did — you  may  aU  say  what  you 
like  about  him  now  that  he's  gone  away  ;  but  I'll  jest  lay 
down  this  right  arm  of  mine,  an'  hev  it  cut  orf,  afore  I'U 
turn  agin'  him!" 

The  housekeeper  dashed  aside  a  tear,  and  called  in 
Sally  to  take  away  the  breakfast.  There  was  no  use  in 
arguing  against  such  a  prejudice,  and  I  did  not  attempt  it. 


That  afternoon  I  announced  my  intention  of  departing 


BLUE  HELLS.  181 

to  the  family.  It  was  received  with  regret  that  was  of  a 
very  flattering  nature,  although  every  one  comprehended 
my  anxiety  to  see  my  sister.  I  promised  to  return  when 
I  could,  and  expressed  my  hope  that  before  the  end  of 
the  summer  I  might  be  enabled  to  make  a  flying  visit  to 
Blue  Hills,  with  my  mother  and  sisters. 

Edith  was  so  sure  of  being  utterly  desolate  after  my 
departure,  that  she  determined  to  accompany  me  as  far 
as  Baltimore,  where  she  had  an  aunt  who  would  be  very 
glad  to  have  her  society  for  a  few  days. 

Early  the  next  morning,  Mrs.  Judson  spurred  up  Sin- 
gular to  harness  Gusty  to  the  box  wagon,  which  was  to 
carry  the  trunks,  and  a  horse  from  Garniss's  was  at- 
tached to  the  "shay,"  which  Mrs.  Judson  ventured  to 
drive.  I  took  my  leave  of  Mr.  Shaker  at  the  house,  and 
by  dint  of  constant  shoutings  at  Singular  to  move  ahead 
faster,  the  housekeeper  brought  the  caravan  to  Kocky 
Cross  in  time  for  the  nine  o'clock  train. 

I  looked  for  some  time  from  the  car  window.  Mrs. 
Judson's  waving  handkerchief,  and  Singular's  straw  hat, 
were  soon  invisible  ;  and  after  appearing  at  intervals 
for  some  time,  the  Blue  Hills  at  last  faded  out  of 
sight. 

It  was  a  long  ride  to  Baltimore  ;  and  when  arrived  in 
that  city,  I  was  glad  to  stop  with  Edith  at  the  house  of 
her  aunt,  who  was  not  at  home,  to  take  some  refreshment 
before  proceeding  to  Washington.  Miss  Launey  accom- 
panied me  to  the  depot,  and  in  parting  it  was  quite 
impossible  for  us  to  restrain  a  few  tears. 

It  was  well  toward  evening,  long  as  were  the  days,  be- 
fore I  came  into  Washington.  It  was  a  strange  city  to 
me,  and  I  looked  about  in  a  haze  of  bewilderment,  gazing 
out  at  the  throng  on  the  sidewalk,  wondering  where  I 
should  go  in  the  rain,  for  it  was  falling  fast,  and  forgetting 
Blue  HiUs  in  the  prospect  before  me. 


182  RENSHAWE. 

"  Car  ain't  a  goin'  any  farther  to-niglit,  ma*am,"  said 
a  brakeman  at  the  door. 

Thus  called  to  myself,  I  hurried  to  get  off,  felt  for  my 
checks  and  pocket-book,  experiencing,  for  the  first  time, 
the  inconveniences  of  travehng  without  an  escort.  As  I 
stepped  off  the  car,  a  lady  with  a  wet  cloak  and  dripping 
umbrella  approached  me  on  the  platform.  Her  hood 
was  thrown  back,  and  Cassy's  face  revealed. 

"Oh,  you  wretched  girl !  I've  been  dovm  to  the  depot 
every  day  for  a  week !     ^\Tiat  has  been  the  matter  ?" 

I  looked  around  me  wonderingiy.  A  dim  white  object 
was  just  discernible  through  the  heavy  clouds.  I  saw 
it  half  hidden  by  the  smoke,  and  the  sigl^t  woke  new 
sensations. 

"  Is  that  the  dome  of  the  Capitol,  Cassy  ?" 

"  Which  ?  Oh,  yes  ;  that's  the  dome.  Dear  me,  you 
can't  see  it  here,  and  no  time  to  look  at  it  if  you  could. 
Hurry  around  with  me  to  Aunt  Bess.  Never  mind  about 
the  trunks,  particularly ;  we're  going  right  away  again, 
the  day  after  to-morrow." 


RENSHA¥E. 
n. 

WHITE  CHIMNEYS. 


Every  man  is  as  God  made  him,  and  oftentimes  a  great  deal  worse.'' 

Don  Quixote. 


CHAPTER  XVni. 


)ASSANDRA  had  a  hundred  things  to  tell  me,  for 
which  she  found  our  walk  quite  too  short,  chiefly 
about  Captain  Hervey,  about  all  the  members  of 
his  very  dehghtful  family,  mixed  up  with  frequent  ejacu- 
latory  commendations  of  that  gentleman's  extraordinary 
goodness  and  abilities. 

I  wanted  to  see  Captain  Hervey  for  reasons  quite  un- 
known to  my  sister  ;  the  cu'cumstances  under  which  our 
short  acquaintance  had  terminated,  were  uppermost  in 
my  mind  ;  but  he  could  not  be  seen  that  night.  The 
regiment  was  to  leave  Washington  in  the  morning. 

"  Then  you'll  not  see  him  again  at  all,"  said  I. 

"  Oh,  yes !  he  promised  to  come  early  to-morrow." 

"  But  he  may  be  detained." 

"  Not  in  the  morning.     He  promised  to  come. 


184  RENSHAWE. 

I  now  inquired  for  wliat  place  we  were  to  leave  "Wash- 
ington. Cassy  said  she  had  accepted  an  invitation  from 
Mrs.  Hervey,  for  me  and  herself,  to  visit  her  at  her  resi- 
dence in  TMiite  Chimneys. 

"What!  while  you  are  engaged  to  Captain  Hervey?"  I 
exclaimed  in  astonishment. 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  at  all,  Louisa.  Indeed,  you  must 
understand  exactly  how  I  feel;  but  the  Herveys  have  not 
the  dimmest  idea  why  it  should  be  contrary  to  my  feel- 
ings. I  can't  tell  you  till  you  see  them  what  sort  of 
people  they  are." 

"  They  have  called  on  you,"  I  suggested." 

"Dear  me,  no — nothing  of  the  sort.  It's  been  very  in- 
formal, I  assure  you.  The  two  daughters  ran  round  in 
a  great  hurry  one  day,  in  morning  di'esses,  no  gloves  or 
cards,  French  hoods  on  their  heads  ;  and  when  I  came 
in  embraced  me  in  the  most  tumultuous  way — said 
"  Mamma "  wasn't  well  and  wanted  me  to  come  to  the 
hotel  to  see  her.  I  went  there  dii-ectly  ;  and  there  sat 
mamma,  all  dressed  up,  with  a  great  crowd  of  ladies  in 
her  parlor — ^just  like  a  levee  ;  and  she  seated  me  right 
down  beside  her,  and  introduced  me  to  everybody  that 
spoke  to  her  as  her  '  new  daughter.'  It  never  seemed  to 
enter  their  head  that  I  need  be  at  aU  embarrassed  ;  and 
then,  when  Hervey  came  in,  his  mother  asked  us,  before 
ten  or  a  dozen  people,  to  decide  when  we  would  be  mar- 
ried. But  they  ai'e  all  very  kind  people  indeed — perfect 
jewels  of  goodness,  and  the  first  day  I  dined  there,  they 
made  me  promise  to  go  down  to  White  Chimneys  ;  aU 
crowded  about,  ofi'ered  to  come  that  night  and  help  me 
pack.  Dear  Louise,  I  couldn't  say  no !  It  was  all  I  could 
do  to  put  them  off  till  you  came.  VHaj,  my  dear  sister, 
it  really  required  all  my  skill  to  avoid  staying  all  the 
time  with  them  this  past  week." 

"  How  many  does  this  interesting  family  comprise  ?" 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  185 

"  Two  sons,  and  two  daughters;  Mrs.  Trueman,  and 
Georgy." 

"  Georgy  ?  Is  that  for  Georgiana,  Georgina,  or  Geor- 
gia?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  never  heard  her  called  anything  but 
Georgy.  Sophia  is  a  sister  of  Mr.  Hervey's,  about  the 
age  of  his  youngest  son.  She's  rather  different  from  the 
rest;  has  been  educated  at  the  North." 

"  How  are  they  on  the  pohtical  question  ?" 

"  All  sound,  with  one  exception.  Major  Hervey  is  in 
the  Southern  army.     He  is  the  eldest  son." 

"  You  have  not  seen  him,  then  ?" 

"  Oh,  yes;  but  it  was  early  in  the  spring,  when  we  first 
came  to  Washington.  I  like  him  very  much  indeed.  He 
is  married." 

"  And  his  wife — do  you  like  her  ?" 

"  Oh,  I've  never  seen  her.  She  does  not  visit  the  fam- 
ily. I  believe  it  was  a  sort  of  mesalliance,  and  they  are 
only  lately  reconciled  to  him." 

"  I  a;  11  surprised,"  said  I,  "  that  he  should  have  con- 
sented to  a  recognition  that  did  not  include  his  wife." 

"  I  can't  explain  it,"  said  my  sister;  "  I  only  know  that 
he  seemed  to  consider  it  a  matter  of  small  importance 
whether  his  wife  was  received  or  not.  But  let  us  hear 
about  your  own  affairs,  and  what  you  have  been  doing. 

I  was  really  glad  to  change  the  conversation,  for  though 
I  entered  strongly  into  Cassy's  feehngs  I  was  still  anxious 
to  hear  Aunt  Bess's  judgment  on  the  Herveys  before 
making  up  my  mind  unconditionally.  Aunt  Bess  had  just 
moved  into  a  new  house,  recently  furnished,  of  which  the 
rooms  were  nearly  all  let  to  lodgers;  but  it  was  her  inten- 
tion to  open  it  as  a  boarding-house  in  the  fall.  My  aunt 
wore  the  air  of  a  person  not  only  out  of  health,  but  out 
of  spirit.  Of  course,  as  soon  as  I  saw  her  alone,  I  men- 
tioned the  Herveys. 


186  RENSHAWE. 

Aunt  Bess  at  once  assured  me  that  she  heartily  ap- 
proved of  Cassy's  engagement.  The  Herveys  were  a 
highly  respectable  family,  very  well  connected,  and  very 
wealthy. 

As  the  item  of  wealth  was  one  on  which  Aunt  Bess 
invariably  dwelt  in  her  estimate  of  the  advantages  of  an 
engagement,  I  was  satisfied  of  that  worldly  good  as 
as  soon  as  her  fii'st  words  of  praise  were  uttered.  I 
inquii'ed  further  into  the  family  character. 

"Very  amiable,  pleasant  people.  You  always  hear 
them  well  spoken  of  when  they  are  spoken  of  at  all. 
Hervey  himself  is  a  singular  kind  of  person ;  the  greatest 
contrast  to  Cassy,  in  looks,  that  you  can  possibly  imagine." 

"I  have  seen  him,"  said  I,  "but  long  before  this,  of 
course.  Looks  are  of  no  consequence,  Aunt  Bess,  if  the 
heart  is  right." 

I  expected  some  condemnation  for  uttering  platitudes, 
but  my  remonstrance  had  been  too  feelingly  made. 

"  Heart  ?  Oh,  my  dear,  his  is  lost,  and  Cassy's,  too. 
You  never  saw  two  such  crazy  fools  in  your  life." 

"  They  are  very  much  attached,  then  T* 

"  You'll  see,"  and  Aunt  Bess  would  say  no  more. 

]\Irs.  Trueman,  one  of  Cassy's  proposed  sisters-in-law, 
was  expected  to  tea,  and  she  came  quite  punctually.  She 
looked  very  much  as  she  had  on  the  occasion  of  oui'  first  in- 
troduction at  the  Ostranders',  renewed  our  acquaintance  in 
the  most  charming  manner,  talked  of  "our  sister  Cassy," 
and  greeted  that  young  lady  in  even  warmer  style.  She 
had  nothing  to  say  that  was  very  new  or  very  striking; 
but  what  she  did  say  could  not  have  been  spoken  more 
pleasantly,  and  her  face  wore  a  steady,  habitual  smile, 
that  seemed  natural,  after  a  while,  though  at  first  I  pro- 
nounced it  an  inexpressive  simper.  Tea  was  served  in 
the  fi'ont  room  on  the  second  floor,  with  the  blinds  closely 
di'awn,  and  as  soon  as  ]Mi's.  Trueman  and  I  had  finished 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  187 

making  much  of  each  other,  at  least  as  soon  as  there  was 
a  kill  in  our  mutual  congratulations  and  good  wishes, 
which  was  by  the  time  the  first  cup  had  been  sipped  all 
around,  I  asked  Aunt  Bess  where  Alice  was  at  present. 

"  She  has  been  away  for  a  week  now,"  said  my  aunt. 
"  Oh,  Louise !  don't  talk  to  me  of  Alice !  I  am  discour- 
aged, disheartened.  She  will  go  travehng  all  about  with 
that  old  rascal." 

Mrs.  Trueman  inquired  what  rascal. 

"That  old  one-eyed  rascal,  Chives!"  exclaimed  my  aunt. 

I  looked  up  in  no  little  surprise  that  the  speaker  should 
have  forgotten  herself  so  far  as  to  use  such  an  epithet, 
but  I  saw  only  wrath  and  intense  feeling  in  her  features. 

"Why,  you  are  quite  exasperated  about  him.  Aunt 
Bess,"  said  Cassy,  laughing.  "I  think  him  very  charm- 
ing." 

"  Charming !"  cried  Aunt  Bess. 

"Yes.  I  don't  think  him  a  rascal  at  all;  and  I'm  sure 
his  one  eye  is  handsomer  than  any  two  I  ever  saw  in  my 
life — apart  from  those  whom  I  personally  love." 

The  door  opened  at  this  juncture,  and  Alice  walked 
into  the  room  in  her  traveling  dress.  She  went  directly 
up  to  my  sister. 

"  Shake  hands  with  me,  Cassy.  I  am  your  sworn 
friend  from  this  moment  forward.  I  like  you  far  better 
for  defending  Governor  Chives  than  for  speaking  well  of 
me." 

Aunt  Bess  received  her  daughter's  kiss  with  a  vexed, 
impatient  air.  Place  was  made  for  Alice  at  the  table, 
and  before  taking  her  seat,  she  whispered  in  my  ear,  "  not 
one  word  of  Blue  Hills." 

The  conversation,  after  this  new  accession  to  the  party, 
ran  on  the  same  subject.  Aunt  Bess  enlarged  on  the  an- 
noyance her  daughter  had  caused  her.  "  I'll  lay  the  case 
before  anybody  in  the  world,  my  child.     Is  it  right  for 


188  WHITE  CHIMMEYS. 

yoTi  to  leave  yoiir  own  mother  and  mn  about  from  town 
to  town  with  that  scoundrel?" 

"AMiy,  mother,  you  know  I'm  obliged  to  leave  you; 
that  I've  explained  many  a  time ;  and  I  don't  travel  with 
Mr.  Chives  very  often — never  alone  with  him  more  than 
once  or  twice,  to  which  nobody  of  sense  could  make  the 
least  objection." 

"  If  you  must  travel,  though,  I  don't  see  what  necessity 
compels  you  to  make  yourself  a  wandering  Jew  ;  why 
don't  you  go  alone  altogether  ?" 

"^\Tiy  not  go  with  ^Ii'.  Chives?"  Alice  demanded. 

"Because  it's  not  considered  the  thing,  my  child,  and 
you  know  that  as  well  as  I  do." 

"  How  old  a  gentleman  is  this  ]\Ir.  Chives  ?"  inquired 
Mrs.  Trueman. 

"Eighty-seven  last  Christmas,"  said  Alice 

Mrs.  Trueman  laughed.  "People  probably  suppose 
Alice  to  be  traveling  with  her  grandfather." 

"  Of  coui'se  they  do,"  said  Alice  ;  "  and  I  don't  travel 
with  him,  I  say.     I  go  where  he  sends  me." 

The  subject  was  changed  as  soon  as  possible  by  me. 
Many  were  discussed  which  possessed  no  Httle  interest 
for  me.  Galusha's  entering  the  army  was  spoken  of,  and 
his  present  absence  fi'om  Washington  regretted.  The 
Ostranders  were  alluded  to  next,  and  I  was  informed,  as 
a  starthng  piece  of  news,  that  Miss  Douglas's  engage- 
ment to  Mr.  George  Berkley  had  been  dissolved  some 
time  since.*  Mr.  Davis  had  gone  South,  to  Louisana, 
and  when  last  heard  of  was  drilling  recruits  for  a  Confed- 
erate regiment. 

Mrs.  Trueman  had  many  little  peculiarities  of  manner, 


*  Keference  is  here  made  to  "Mary  Brandegee,"  a  pre\'ioiis  work 
by  tliis  author,  and  also  to  a  new  work  in  press,  entitled  "Dela- 
ware."'— Ed. 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  189 

to  whicli  I  was  all  the  evening  in  getting  accustomed. 
She  spoke  of  the  various  members  of  her  family  as  though 
they  had  no  proper  names,  mentioning  them  in  the 
abstract  as  "brother,"  "  sister,"  etc.  ;  and  in  speaking  of 
Mr.  Trueman,  she  said  invariably,  "husband,"  without 
the  possessive  pronoun  natural  to  prefix.  Her  carriage 
came  quite  late,  and  she  promised  to  call  for  Cassy  and 
me  early  on  the  morning  of  the  second  day,  to  set  out 
for  Mr.  Hervey's  country  seat,  at  White  Chimneys, 
whither  all  the  family  had  gone. 

When  Mrs.  Trueman  had  gone,  Aunt  Bess  renewed 
her  attack  on  Mr.  Chives.  AHce  lounged  on  the  sofa, 
pushing  her  sHpper  off  and  on,  occasionally  raising  her 
eyes  to  her  mother's  face,  with  an  air  half  amusement, 
half  obstinacy.  ^Vhen  Aunt  Bess  had  ceased,  more  from 
weariness  than  exhaustion  of  the  subject,  I  brought  back 
the  conversation  to  the  Herveys. 

"  Where  is  Mr.  Trueman  ?"  I  asked. 

"Oh,  *  husband'  is  in  the  rebel  army,"  said  Alice, 
laughing  ;  "I  think  Mrs.  Trueman  is  half  secesh  herself; 
sweet  woman  !  I  generally  dislike  sweet  women,  because 
they  are  almost  always  soft — soft  in  the  sense  of  silly,  you 
know.  But  Mrs.  Trueman  is  sweet  without  being  exactly 
silly,  though  she  does  act  as  though  she  was  ready  to 
embrace  the  whole  world.  The  first  time  I**ever  met  the 
Herveys,  it  did  sound  so  very  singular  to  hear  Mrs.  Her- 
vey  saying,  *  my  lamb,'  to  the  major,  and  *  my  darling' 
to  the  captain,  and  *my  sweet  baby*  to  Georgiana  ;  and 
those  full  grown  men  talking  to  '  papa '  and  '  mamma,' 
and  to  hear  Mrs.  Trueman  shouting  to  her  husband  way 
across  the  street,  '  My  love  !  my  love  !  your  overcoat !' 
and  then  she  ran  out  bareheaded,  and  in  shppered  feet, 
to  carry  his  coat  half  way  to  the  corner.  Oh,  Louise, 
it's  a  rich  set  you're  going  among  to-morrow."  And 
Alice  stifled  a  laugh  in  the  cushions  of  the  sofa. 


190  EENSHAWE. 

"  Well,"  said  Cassy,  after  sober  reflection,  "  if  the  whole 
family  do  seem  absui'd  in  their  manners  toward  each 
other,  I  must  say  that  it  is  a  hundi'ed  times  better  to  err 
on  that  extreme  than  on  the  other.  They  had  better,  as 
they  cannot  strike  the  medium,  be  constantly  worrying 
about  one  another,  and  talking  affectionately  to  each 
other,  than  to  be  fault-finding  and  scolding  all  the  time." 

"  You  are  right,  Cassandra,"  said  Aunt  Bess,  "  perfectly 
right  ;  and  I  don't  know  that  the  Herveys  are  so  very 
absurd  after  all.  If  they  feel  like  loving  and  blessing 
each  other,  the  fact  that  they  indulge  the  feeling  only 
shows  their  independence.  They  have  not  Uved  so  long 
in  the  world  without  learning  its  ways  so  far  as  to  know 
that  coldness  and  reticence  is  more  the  fashion  than 
warmth  and  unreserve." 

This  reflection,  plainly  pointed  at  AHce,  was  studiously 
unheeded  by  that  fail'  damsel. 

"  I  have  heard  it  said,"  I  remarked,  "  that  when  people 
make  such  a  pubhc  display  of  affection,  they  generally 
live  like  cat  and  dog  in  private.  Perhaps  at  the  Herveys 
it  is  not  quite  so  lovely  behind  the  scenes." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  said  Alice,  quickly  ;  "I  must  do  them  that 
justice.  People  who  have  staid  months  in  the  family, 
say  they  ai*e  the  same  abroad  or  at  home.  Sophia,  to  be 
sure,  differs  fnom  the  rest ;  she  is  the  same  at  all  times, 
too — brusque  and  disagreeable." 

That  night  Alice  and  I  slept  in  the  room  adjoining  that 
occupied  by  my  aimt  and  sister,  an  arrangement  brought 
about  by  my  cousin,  who  was  sure  the  day  was  long 
enough  for  Cassy  and  me  to  discuss  our  new  connections, 
privately  intimating  to  me  that  her  mother  would  talk 
her  quite  dead  about  Chives.  As  Aunt  Bess  had  left 
open  the  folding  doors,  however,  I  was  several  times 
awakened  by  the  broad  flare  of  a  match,  and  the  snap  of 
a  watchcase. 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  191 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Cassy  ?"  I  inquired  at  last. 

"  Four  hours  till  day,"  was  the  answer. 

I  woke  at  last ;  the  clock  struck  three.  My  sister  was 
up  and  nearly  dressed. 

"  Cassy,  are  you  crazy,  or  is  the  clock  wrong  ?" 

"My  dear  Louise,  I  would  not  have  Hervey  come  and 
be  kept  waiting  for  the  world." 

"Is  he  in  the  habit  of  coming  at  three  in  the 
morning  ?" 

"  No  ;  he  won't  be  here  tiU  five,  but  I  can't  sleep  any 
more." 

"  My  dear  Louise,"  said  Aunt  Bess,  laughing,  "  this  is 
the  time  he  generally  goes  away.  The  day  before  yester- 
day, Cassy  and  he  talked  in  the  parlor  from  morning  till 
night  with  nothing  to  eat  or  drink." 

Cassy  watched  at  the  window  for  two  hours,  and  sud- 
denly flew  down  the  staircase  to  open  the  front  door. 

I  feared  that  Hervey  would  leave  before  I  had  an  op- 
portunity of  seeing  him,  but  Aunt  Bess  reassured  me  on 
that  head,  and  I  did  not  come  down  till  just  at  breakfast 
time.  Hervey  greeted  me  as  though  he  were  already  my 
brother,  and  I  saw  by  his  eyes  that  he  wished  for  an  in- 
terview as  well  as  myself. 

"  I  must  see  Louise  alone,  a  minute,"  he  said  to  Cassy, 
and  we  walked  away  from  the  breakfast-room  door  to 
the  balcony  windows.  The  final  fate  of  the  Black  Kobin 
was  discussed.  Hervey  assured  me  that  the  society  had 
been  torn  up,  root  and  branch,  but,  as  might  have  been 
expected,  not  one  of  the  conspirators  met  with  his 
deserts. 

"Don't  you  think  you  and  I  ran  a  gi-eat  risk?"  I 
inquired. 

"  Every  one  that  meddles  with  any  secret  society  runs  a 
risk,"  said  Hervey.  "  It  is  an  ordinary  rule,  I  understand, 
that  a  man  who  joins  one,  places  his  Hfe  at  its  supreme 


192  RENSHAWK 

disposal.  Of  course  those  men  are  prepared  to  deal 
summarily  with  their  enemies." 

"  One  word  in  conclusion,"  I  said,  as  we  returned 
through  the  parlor.     '*  V\lio  and  what  is  Tomlin  ?" 

Hervey  paused  directly.     "  ^Tiat  Tomlin  ?" 

I  related  shortly  the  circumstances  of  my  meeting  with 
him  at  Blue  Hills,  and  the  general  suspicion  that  he  was 
a  secessionist  spy. 

"  You  are  mistaken,"  said  Hervey  ;  "  all  I  can  teU  you 
now  is,  that  he  has  been  of  signal  service  to  the  Govern- 
ment, and  has  saved  fifteen  thousand  stand  of  arms  from 
the  enemy." 

"Lately?" 

"  Yes  ;  within  a  few  days.  He  receives  a  commission 
very  soon." 

Hervey  left  that  morning,  and  Gassy  supported  his  de- 
parture better  than  I  had  expected.  Aunt  Bess  and 
Alice  had  quarreled  nearly  aU  day  on  the  usual  subject, 
and  when  my  sister  and  I  withdrew  after  supi^er  to  our 
preparations  for  the  morrow's  journey,  we  left  our  fair 
relatives  still  at  sword's  point. 

My  sister  talked  over  oui'  j)lans  and  intentions  with 
vivacity,  dwelt  much  on  Captain  Hervey's  merits,  and 
quite  as  feelingly  on  her  anxiety  about  our  mother  and 
Helen. 

"My  dear  Louise,  I  am  so  sorry  you  are  not  so  happy 
as  I!  I  really  don't  express  half  what  I  feel  for  your 
sake." 

"You  need  have  no  such  dehcacy,  I  assure  you.  I 
don't  envy  your  being  in  love,  after  what  I  have  seen 
to-day.  K  it  involves  getting  up  in  the  middle  of  the 
night,  watching  at  windows,  fasting  aU  day,  and  such 
reveiy  and  absence  of  mind  as  you  have  evinced  since 
morning,  I  would  rather  be  excused." 

"  Then  you  are  quite  happy  as  you  are  ?" 


WHITE  CHDTNEYS.  193 

"  Yes  ;  only  that  we  have  no  news  of  mother  and 
Helen." 

Cassy  moved  about  thoughtfully.  As  she  closed  the 
Hd  of  the  last  trunk,  a  new  idea  struck  her. 

"  By  the  way,  Louise,  who  was  it  you  were  in  love  with 
at  the  Ostranders  ?" 

Oh,"  said  I,  laughing,  "  that  is  all  over  now." 

"What!  Richard  is  himseK  again?" 

"  Certainly." 

"  So  soon  !  I  could  never  forget  Captain  Hervey  while 
I  hve.  If  it's  all  over,  you  don't  mind  telling  me  who  it 
was  ?" 

"Not  at  all ;  don't  mind  teUing  any  one.  George 
Berkley." 

My  sister  wasted  much  astonishment  on  this  revela- 
tion. I  was  soon  asleep,  but  Cassy  kept  me  uneasily 
dreaming  till  one  o'clock,  up  to  which  time  she  perused 
Captain  Hervey's  letters,  with  the  gas  at  full  blaze 


^AvN  a   qui( 

iK)   gate  of 

V/    White  C 


CHAPTER    XIX. 


quiet  morning  in  July,  I  sat  near  the  open 
the  lawn,  before  Mr.  Hervey's  house  at 
White  Chimneys. 
I  had  gone  thither  to  take  a  sketch  of  the  place,  but 
instead  of  that,  had  been  listlessly  dreaming  the  hour 
away.  The  whole  village  lay  in  full  view,  and  the  sun- 
dry sounds  and  sights  in  that  quarter,  denoted  a  life  and 
stir  that  might  have  accompanied  the  growth  of  a  more 
pretentious  place.  White  Chimneys  was  too  large  to  be 
called  a  village,  and  too  small  to  be  considered  a  city, 
although  it  has  been  dignified  as  such,  by  some  historians 
of  the  recent  war;  and  was  at  times  so  conspicuous 
9 


194  RENSHAWE. 

in  its  annals,  that  I  have  preferred  to  give  it  under  a 
fictitious  name  in  these  pages. 

The  house  was  in  appearance  neither  old  nor  new.  It 
was  a  wooden  building,  two  stories  high,  and  broad  on 
the  front,  with  large  windows  opening  to  the  floor. 
From  the  massive  rough  stone  steps,  in  front  of  the 
piazza,  whose  slender  pillars  (for  there  was  no  balus- 
trade) were  overrun  with  vines,  the  beaten  path  led 
down  the  gi-adual  slope  to  the  gate.  The  lawn  was  de- 
ficient in  the  statues,  fountains,  mounds  of  flowers,  and 
other  devices,  by  which  a  vulgar  taste  seeks  to  enhance 
natural  beauty  by  artificial  attractions,  but  tall  branching 
trees,  oaks,  and  elms,  and  beeches,  threw  a  cool  and  de- 
Hghtful  shade  over  the  grounds  which  were  a  welcome 
resort  in  the  hottest  days.  There  was  something  about 
the  house,  with  its  open  hall  doors,  its  wide  windows,  the 
ferns  glancing  back  and  forth,  and  the  lively  music,  that 
forbade  the  idea  of  ennui  or  loneliness  there. 

And  it  was  a  happy  household;  not  only  the  letter  of 
affection's  law,  but  the  spirit,  existed  here.  Every  mem- 
ber of  the  family  studied  the  wishes  and  regarded  the 
convenience  of  the  rest;  and  the  natural  result  was,  that 
the  accidents  which  would  happen,  and  the  mistakes 
which  were  inevitable,  dissolved  on  the  face  of  the  Httle 
community,  like  snowfalls  in  a  river.  I  had  remarked  one 
day  to  my  hostess,  that  I  had  heard  it  said,  there  was  a 
skeleton  in  eveiy  closet  ;  but  I  saw  no  trace  of  any 
skeleton  here. 

"  Perhaps  the  closet  door  is  shut,"  repHed  Mrs.  Heiwey, 
^with  a  look  that  reminded  me  of  the  yet  unseen  eldest 
eon,  and  the  mesalliance  to  which  Cassy  had  alluded. 

I  had  learned  soon  to  love  the  whole  family,  but  the 
one  who  chiefly  won  my  interest  was  Sophia.  She  had, 
unHke  her  two  nieces,  no  pretension  to  beauty  ;  had 
lived  for  some  time  at  the  North  with  her  brother,  and, 


WHITE    CHIMNEYS.  195 

therefore,  in  looks  and  principles,  we  met  on  common 
gi-ound.  She  possessed  a  variety  of  accojnplishments, 
was  a  fine  musician  and  linguist,  very  well  read,  and  her 
proficiency  in  mathematics  would  have  charmed  Mr. 
Tomlin  himself.  In  all  branches  of  embroidery  and 
needle-work  she  was  well  versed,  as  well  as  in  the  culi- 
nary art,  where  her  skill  was  confessed  to  be  superior; 
and  a  certain  force  of  character  made  her  the  ruling 
spirit  in  the  family  ;  for  to  consult  Sophia,  was  the  ref- 
erence in  every  difficulty,  and  till  her  opinion  was  secured, 
other  verdicts  were  doubtful. 

"  You  and  I  will  have  to  agree,"  she  said  to  me,  the 
morning  after  my  arrival,  as  I  was  watching  her  arrange- 
ment of  some  linen  on  the  closet  shelves  in  the  hall. 

"  I  trust  so,"  said  I,  laughing. 

"  Oh,  indeed  we  shall ;  I  heard  a  great  deal  about  you, 
long  before  I  ever  met  you  or  your  sister." 

"  From  whom  ?"  I  inquired. 

Chiefly  from  Miss  Bourdleme.  She's  one  of  the  uni- 
versal persons,  who  know  everybody,  and  everybody's 
relations." 

Not  Hking  to  ask  what  Miss  Bourdleme  had  said,  I  in- 
quired how  she  liked  that  "  universal"  young  lady. 

"  No  objection  to  her,"  said  Sophia  ;  "  except  that  she 
has  what  I  call  the  Berkley  fever,  which,  by  the  way, 
everybody  takes  when  an  opportunity  offers." 

"You  know  the  Berkleys  then?" 

"  Oh,  dear,  yes,  for  several  years;  not  intimately  to  be 
sure.  Mr.  Dan  Berkley,  and  my  brother  Lionel  were 
quite  warm  friends;  but  since  -Dan's  death,  we  have 
scarcely  seen  anything  of  them.  The  ladies  of  the 
family,  we  have  seen  very  frequently.  I  have  hardly 
made  up  my  mind  whether  you  have  the  Berkley  fever 
or  not,  Louisa.     Have  you  ?" 

"  No,"  said  I,  smiling  ;  and  thinking    it  quite  super- 


196  RENSHAWE. 

fluous  to  add,  that  I  had  had  it  and  recovered,  I  sup- 
pressed the  fact,  as  one  that  could  not  raise  me  in  !Miss 
Hervey's  estimation. 

"By  the  way,"  she  added,  as  she  quitted  the  hall,  "I 
beg  you'll  keep  your  trunks  locked,  for  Lucy's  a  thief." 

I  found  Sophia  not  always  disposed  to  be  talkative. 
She  was  capricious  and  fitful.  At  times  she  would  sit  for 
hours  together  at  the  window,  steadily  plying  her  needle; 
taciturn  and  grave,  not  a  syllable  escaping  her  Hps. 

On  this  morning  I  was,  as  previously  related,  just  in 
the  midst  of  a  di'awing  of  the  house,  but  my  mind  was 
not  sufficiently  at  ease  to  enable  me  to  complete  it. 
News  had  come  of  an  alarming  nature.  'Uliite  Chim- 
neys was  occupied  by  soldiers,  who  had  come  in  that 
day,  and  the  most  unpleasing  fact  connected  with  the 
invasion  was,  that  they  were  not  Northern  troops. 
Anxiety  was  rife  throughout  the  family,  and  we  were  aU 
in  suspense  until  fui'ther  intelligence  should  come  from 
the  village. 

After  many  a  vain  attempt  to  fix  my  mind  on  my 
sketch,  I  tossed  the  paste-board  into  my  portfolio,  and 
moved  up  toward  the  house.  As  I  neared  the  piazza,  a 
footfall  sounded  behind  me  on  the  walk,  a  careless  voice 
accosted  me,  and  before  I  could  faii'ly  look  round,  some 
one  stoj^ped  me  and  kissed  me.  I  looked  up  in  speech- 
less astonishment,  and  beheld  a  tall  young  gentlemen  in 
regimentals,  whose  face  to  my  certain  knowledge  I  had 
never  seen  before. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  exclaimed  ;  "  I  took  you 
for  iMiss  Eenshawe." 

At  this  statement  my  astonishment  increased.  The 
stranger  begged  pardon  again,  and  as  I  was  still  dumb, 
he  passed  on  to  the  house.  I  followed.  The  military 
character  of  his  dress  had  determined  him  as  belonging 
to  the  new  camp,  and  with  Captain  Berkley's  foraging 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  197 

party  fiillvin  my  memory,  I  was  not  particularly  charmed 
with  his  unceremonious  way  of  traversing  the  apartments 
below. 

"  "Where  are  all  the  people  ?"  he  asked,  returning  from 
the  deserted  parlors  to  the  hall. 

I  said  I  presumed  they  must  be  all  in  their  rooms. 

"Ah!"  the  specimen  in  uniform  ran  up  the  staircase, 
and  went  from  door  to  door,  exploring  the  second  story 
like  the  first.  I  sent  black  Lucy  in  haste  to  the  grove,  to 
inform  the  ladies  that  there  was  a  strange  officer  roam- 
ing over  the  house,  for  I  could  not  admit  the  conviction 
that  he  had  any  right  on  the  premises.  He  reappeared 
directly. 

"  There  seems  to  be  nobody  in  the  house  ;  where  have 
they  all  gone?"  he  inquired.  The  sound  of  voices  made 
me  aware  that  they  were  coming  at  last.  Georgy  ar- 
rived first  in  the  hall.     My  suspicions  were  ended. 

"  Oh  Tiger's  come — mamma !  Tiger's  come  !  "  she 
shouted.  "  You  dear^ld  Tiger,  how  do  you  do  ?"  and  the 
ladies  all  flew  in,  and  hung  about  the  aforesaid  Tiger, 
with  an  enthusiasm  that  left  no  doubt  of  his  identity, 
and  when  I  saw  Cassy's  share  in  the  reception,  I  per- 
ceived for  whom  it  was  I  had  been  mistaken.  As  soon 
as  the  first  flush  of  greeting  was  over,  Mrs.  Trueman 
introduced  "  Cassy's  sister"  and  "  our  brother  Lionel." 

Lionel  and  I  had  Kttle  time  for  exchange  of  com- 
pliments. He  was  dragged  into  the  drawing-room,  the 
negroes  sent  everjr^here  for  Mr.  Hervey,  and  the  de- 
Hght  of  the  family  exhibited  in  the  most  demonstrative 
way.  Amid  the  numerous  questions,  which  the  new 
comer  was  obliged  to  ask  and  answer,  it  was  some  time 
before  the  discourse  grew  at  all  connected.  I  studied 
his  features,  with  the  interest  I  naturally  felt  in  every 
member  of  a  family  into  which  my  sister  was  so  soon  to 
be  received;   and  for  the  hour  that  he  remained,  saw 


198  RENSHAWE. 

nothing  to  dislike.  Major  Her\ey  stated  that  his  regi- 
ment was  at  White  Chimneys,  for  how  long  he  could  not 
say,  and  that  Colonel  Hunter's  was  quartered  there  also. 
Sophia,  mentioned  that  she  had  heard  a  report  that 
morning,  that  the  — th  regiment  of  North  Carolina,  com- 
manded by  Colonel  Berkley,  was  in  the  vicinity. 

"  We  expect  Berkley  in  to-day,"  replied  Major  Hervey. 
Sophia  expressed  her  sorrow  that  there  was  a  rebel 
camp  again  at  WTiite  Chimneys.  She  earnestly  wished 
that  the  next  time  they  went  they  might  be  scattered 
by  the  loyal  troops  of  the  North,  and  loaded  with  all  the 
ignominy  that  rebels  and  traitors  justly  deserved. 

"You  seem  utterly  destitute  of  loyalty  to  your  own 
soil,  Sophia,"  said  Major  Hervey,  who  had  listened  to 
this  unsparing  denunciation  with  calmness  that  surprised 
me.     "  It  is  well  that  such  sentiments  here  are  rare." 

"  If  I  did  not  believe,"  said  Sophia,  with  enthusiasm 
deepening  in  her  gTay  eyes,  "  if  I  did  not  beheve  such 
sentiments  exist  among  many  of  the  Southern  people,  I 
should  hope  nothing  for  the  country." 

"  Nonsense !"  said  Lionel  Hervey  with  a  laugh.  "  Such 
sentiments  exist  among  the  Southern  people,  in  the  same 
proportion  that  they  exist  at  White  Chimneys,  one  man 
to  a  hundred.  Even  this  family,  I  beheve,  is  lukewarm 
toward  the  old  Union,  and  krudly  toward  the  new 
RepubHc.  I  except  you,  Sophia,  but  no  Southern  woman 
talks  as  you  do,  unless,  like  you,  she  has  been  reared  at 
a  Boston  academy. 

"I  am  not  a  Southern  woman,"  said  Sophia,  earnestly; 
"I  am  not  a  Northern  woman;  I  am  nothing  which,  in 
distinguishing  me  as  a  daughter  of  the  Union,  separates 
me  from  it.  As  for  this  family  being  friendly  to  the  new 
Repubhc,  as  you  call  it,  I  Httle  know  them,  if  they  do 
not  share  my  sentiments.  It  is  only  folly  and  madness 
now  to  proclaim  them,  as  we  are  already  looked  upon 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  199 

with  hostile  eyes  by  the  whole  village.  Nothing  saves 
us  from  an  open  demonstration,  but  the  fact  that 
you  are  in  the  Southern  army.  Oh  Lionel,  what  a 
blessed  privilege  you  have  thrown  away  ;  worse  than 
thrown  away — betrayed !" 

"What  blessed  privilege  is  that?"  inquired  Major 
Hervey. 

"Of  defending  your  country,"  cried  Sophia.  "Asa 
woman,  I  can  only  give  my  heart,  and  hand,  and  faculties 
to  the  cause;  but  you  could  have  offered  your  Hfe !  It 
can  bring  you  no  honor  whatever,  that  you  did  peril  it 
on  the  side  of  treason." 

"  Well,"  said  Major  Hervey,  rising,  "  I  suppose  after 
all  this  patriotism,  and  detestation  of  rebels,  my  errand 
to-day  is  entirely  useless." 

The  nature  of  the  errand  was  at  once  demanded. 
Major  Hervey  explained,  that  as  the  — th  Carolina  was 
expected  that  afternoon,  he  had  supposed  his  sisters 
might  like  to  witness  the  display  ;  consequently  he  had 
come  to  offer  his  escort  to  the  arsenal,  from  the  windows 
of  which  they  might  view  the  procession.  The  invitation 
produced  quite  a  revulsion.  It  was  accepted  by  all  but 
Sophia,  who  declared  that  she  couldn't  endure  the  sight 
of  rebels  in  a  body,  and  should  remain  at  home.  Major 
Hervey  did  not  attempt  to  oppose  this  determination, 
but  withdrew,  promising  to  return  in  time  to  ensure  our 
being  at  the  arsenal  early. 

When  he  had  gone,  Mi's.  Hervey  and  Mrs.  Trueman 
made  an  earnest  appeal  to  Sophia  to  waive  her  scruples, 
and  accompany  them  in  the  afternoon.  They  represent- 
ed that  the  family  was  already  regarded  by  watchful  and 
malicious  eyes,  and  that  she,  in  particular,  by  reason  of 
the  active  measures  she  had  taken,  had  laid  herself  open 
to  strictures  from  the  disloyal  citizens  of  AVhite  Chim- 
neys, who  were  a  large  majority.     Sophia  at  last,  in  con- 


200  KENSHATTE. 

sideration  of  the  possible  effects  of  her  non-appearance, 
and  influenced  solely,  as  she  declared,  by  her  wish  not  to 
bring  any  calamity  on  the  family,  repealed  her  decision. 

That  afternoon,  while  wiiting  a  note  before  Major 
Hervey's  aiTival,  I  hapj^ened  to  look  up  at  Cassy,  who 
was  regarding  me  in  an  absent  way. 

""What  are  you  thinking  of?"  I  asked. 

"  I  am  thinking,"  said  she,  "  that  you  never  can  have 
been  in  love  with  George  Berkley  at  all.  You  looked  so 
unconcerned  when  his  name  w^as  mentioned.  How  was 
it  possible,  Louise  ?" 

I  had  been  indulging  some  self-congratulation  on  the 
same  circumstance;  I  had  borne  the  announcement  of 
Berkley's  speedy  arrival  without  any  emotion,  nor  was 
it  granted  even  to  the  consciousness  of  my  past  folly. 

"Really,  my  astonishment  increases,"  said  my  sister. 
"  You  did  not  even  blush  when  his  name  was  mentioned. 
How  do  you  feel  on  his  being  so  near?" 

"Entirely  at  ease.  It  was  a  very  silly  fancy,  Cassy  ;  do 
not  remind  me  of  it." 

Eeassured  at  finding  that  even  she  had  detected  no 
sign  of  the  agitation  which  I  supposed  recollection  had 
painted  on  my  face,  I  was  fi'ee  now  to  wonder  at  myself 
that  ever  I  should  have  been  governed  by  so  capricious  a 
fancy. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

fyT'S  not  possible  that  you  are  going,"  said  Major  Her- 
j  vey  to  Sophia,  as,  on  the  occasion  of  his  second  ar- 
■^  rival,  he  found  her  waiting  him  with  the  rest,  ready 
equipped  for  the  excursion.  We  set  out,  taking  the  di- 
rect road  to  the  town,  which  we  found  in  a  state  betoken- 
ing universal  excitement.     The  streets  were  filled  with 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  201 

passing  crowds  ;  groups  of  soldiers  and  officers  were 
cliiefly  distinguishable,  members  of  the  camp,  already- 
stationed  at  'Wliite  Chimneys.  Confederate  flags  floated 
in  every  quarter,  and  the  arsenal  windows  were  shielded 
from  the  hot  blaze  of  the  sun  by  the  dark  shadow  of  the 
palmetto  tree,  and  the  rattle-snake  insignia,  which  the 
Confederacy  at  that  time  acknowledged  as  its  emblems. 
The  air  of  the  whole  place  was  expectation — it  illumined 
the  faces — it  looked  from  the  house-tops — it  blocked  up 
the  way.  Major  Hervey,  who  walked  beside  Cassandra,  at 
the  head  of  our  part}^  conducted  us  in  safety  to  the 
arsenal,  which  was  a  collection  of  bare  rooms,  furnished 
in  a  rude  and  disorderly  way,  its  recent  service  as  a  hos- 
pital commingHng  its  characters  so  that  it  were  difficult 
to  decide  what  present  use  it  had  been  put  to.  Follow- 
ing our  conductor,  we  proceeded  up  a  flight  of  well  worn 
wooden  steps,  each  one  surmounted  by  a  short  brass 
plate,  to  the  second  story  of  the  building.  The  apart- 
ment into  which  we  were  admitted  was  stocked  with  a 
medley  of  bedsteads,  old  muskets,  and  shelves  filled  with 
books  and  bottles.  Major  Hervey  provided  us  with  seats 
at  the  windows,  commanding  a  full  view  of  the  street 
below  and  above,  with  the  long  line  of  bunting 
streaming  in  the  sun. 

I  looked  down  on  the  throng  of  the  populace,  decked  by 
the  numerous  secession  badges,  and  overhung  with  the 
ominous  palmetto  flag  and  appropriate  emblems  from 
the  serpent  kingdom  with  wonder,  at  the  unexpected 
vicissitude  that  had  placed  me  thus  in  the  very  heart  of 
rebeldom. 

In  the  countenance  of  Sophia  Hervey,  clothed  as  it 
was  with  an  impressive  solemnity  befitting  the  occasion, 
I  fancied  I  could  trace  a  closer  sympathy  with  my  senti- 
ments, than  was  felt  by  any  of  my  other  companions. 
There  were  other  ladies  in  the  room,  all  wearing  seces- 
9* 


202  -  EENSHAWK 

sion  colors,  and  some  of  their  remarks  reached  the  ears 
of  our  party. 

"It  is  quite  a  large  regiment,"  observed  one  of  the 
ladies.  "I  am  told  there  are  fourteen  hundi-ed  men,  ex- 
clusive of  the  officers." 

"  And  dear  me !  Almeria,  you  should  see  their  colonel," 
was  added  in  another  voice.     "  He  is  perfectly  splendid !" 

"Colonel  Berkley?" 

"Yes.  He's  very  young  for  an  officer — only  twenty- 
six — and  oh,  so  admired,  you  can't  conceive !  Son  of 
General  Berkley,  you  know,  of  Mexican  war  recollection. 
I  fell  in  love  with  him  just  seeing  him  once." 

"  Wonderful  how  far  externals  go  with  silly  women," 
was  Sophia's  comment. 

We  waited  a  considerable  time  for  the  arrival  of  the 
expected  troops,  and  it  was  later  than  the  hour  appoint- 
ed, when  the  roll  of  a  drum  sounded  in  the  distance,  and 
the  clear  accent  of  the  fife  and  bugle  gave  notice  of 
the  coming  of  the  Confederate  corps.  There  was  a  new 
rush  to  the  windows  on  aU  sides;  a  new  elevation  of 
heads  in  the  mass,  and  all  faces  turned  to  the  South- 
western quarter.  It  was  a  steady,  well  mounted  and  gaily 
equipped  j)rocession  of  cavah'y.  The  line  was  long;  two 
large  banners — one,  the  emblematic  symbols  of  South 
Carolina  in  the  van  ;  the  other,  the  great  flag  of  the  Con- 
federacy at  the  centre — marked  the  line  of  the  equestrian 
crowd,  and  the  decorations  of  steel  and  scarlet  on  the 
accoutrements  of  the  dragoons,  flashed  in  the  Hght  of 
the  declining  sun.  I  gazed  at  the  headmost  horsemen 
as  the  troop  came  on,  saw  only  a  line  of  unfamiHar  faces, 
and  while  I  was  looking  for  some  that  I  might  recognize, 
a  halt  was  called,  and  the  whole  body  stopped  as  the 
front  rank  came  under  the  arsenal  windows.  I  scrutin- 
ized every  face,  and  my  attention  was  for  a  moment 
caught  by  the  figure  of  an  officer  on  a  black  horse,  on 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  203 

the  opposite  side  of  the  way.     Just  then  I  heard  Mr. 
Hervey  remark  : 

"How  well  Colonel  Berkley  looks  !" 

"Where?"  said  Sophia,  turning  back  to  the  window 
from  which  she  had  withdrawn,  as  though  the  sight  was 
too  oppressive  to  be  borne. 

"Along  the  right  flank,"  said  Mr.  Hervey;  ''black 
horse  and  blue  saddle-cloth." 

"That's  not  Colonel  Berkley?"  was  simultaneously 
uttered  by  Mrs.  Trueman  and  I,  my  attention  thus  di- 
rected to  the  officer  who  had  attracted  my  momentary 
notice.     Cassy  said  in  a  low  tone  to  me — 

"  You  don't  even  know  him !  how  you^  do  astonish 
me!" 

The  officer  meanwhile  gathered  up  the  bridle  and  rode 
on  a  few  paces;  the  flash  of  the  sunlight  came  full  on  his 
features,  and  as  his  head  was  turned  for  a  second,  I  was 
staggered  by  the  resemblance. 

"So  it  is,"  said  Mrs.  Trueman;  "but  really,  I  should 
not  have  recognized  him.  His  hair  is  all  cut  off,  and  he 
is  terribly  browned  by  the  sun." 

I  looked  again  and  was  convinced.  It  was  certainly 
Berkley.  The  motionless  grace  of  his  position,  the  invin- 
cible ease  of  his  air,  were  unmistakable;  and  when  I  saw 
him  shaking  hands  warmly  with  Major  Hervey,  there 
was  no  farther  room  for  delusion. 

But  a  few  minutes  to  gaze  were  granted  the  admiring 
crowd  at  the  arsenal  windows.  The  order  to  move  on 
was  shortly  given,  and  the  moimted  concourse  proceeded 
along  the  crowded  street.  It  was  of  course  a  long  time 
in  passing,  and  when  faii'ly  gone,  it  was  some  time  before 
the  thi'ong  dispersed. 

AVe  waited  for  Major  Hervey  in  the  arsenal.  The 
room  was  weU  filled,  for  as  some  pieces  of  artillery  were 
coming  in  through  the  lower  haU,  all  the  ladies  who  had 


204  RENSHAWE. 

visited  that  building  were  detained  by  their  inability  to 
walk  over  the  cannons,  and  caissons  which  blocked  the 
way.  When  a  reasonable  time  had  passed,  and  Major 
Heiwey  had  not  come,  the  ladies  concluded  to  wait  no 
longer.  I  was  rejoiced  to  see  some  signs  of  escape,  as  the 
very  atmosphere  seemed  infected  by  the  spirit  of  seces- 
sion with  which  I  was  oppressed.  I  followed  the  crowd 
down  the  stairs,  passed  under  the  palmetto  flag  and  the 
rattle-snake,  and  emerged  from  the  entanglement  of  the 
artillery,  which  was  still  encumbering  the  passage,  and 
to  which  the  beauty  of  many  ladies'  dresses  was  sacri- 
ficed. 

There  was  a  crowd  just  outside  the  door  as  we  came 
out.  The  first  person  whom  I  recognized  among  it  was 
Major  Hervey.  He  apologized  for  being  so  late.  Mrs. 
Trueman  showed  some  disposition  to  hnger. 

"  Lionel,  I  did  not  know  but  we  might  see  something 
of  Colonel  Berkley." 

"  Berkley — oh,  no,"  laughed  Major  Hervey.  "  He's 
too  busy  to  be  running  about  the  town,  I  can  tell  you.  I 
don't  expect  to  get  a  minute's  speech  with  him  till  to- 
morrow morning." 

This  statement  was  scarcely  made,  when  suddenly  hur- 
rahs sounded  fi'om  the  lower  street.  A  crowd  was  col- 
lected before  one  of  the  large  buildings,  and  incessant 
waving  of  handkerchiefs  was  going  on  at  the  windows 
opposite.  An  officer  appeared  on  the  balcony  and  called 
out  to  the  crowd  that  Colonel  Berkley  was  not  there;  he 
was  down  at  the  camp;  and  a  rout  ensued  in  the  direc- 
tion of  the  camp.  I  had  but  just  recovered  fi'om  this 
evidence  of  popularity,  when  I  discerned  the  object  of 
the  recent  attempt  at  ovation,  coming  down  the  block, 
arm  i^  arm  with  Colonel  Hunter.  Berkley  stopped  to 
speak  to  the  ladies  of  the  Hervey  family,  and  Cassandra. 
I  stood  back  with  my  veil  drawn  close,  and  passed  um-e- 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  205 

cognized.  Many  gentlemen  of  the  town,  and  officers 
from  the  camp  akeady  stationed  at  White  Chimneys, 
came  up  with  congratulations  and  commendations. 

"Your  regiment  acts  splendidly,  Colonel,"  said  one  of 
these  envoys,  whose  hero-worship  was  written  on  every 
lineament  of  his  face. 

"  Acts  well  enough  here,"  replied  Berkley.  "  How  it 
will  act  under  fire,  I  cannot  say." 

"He's  a  capital  officer,"  added  the  gentleman,  in  a 
subdued  tone,  to  a  friend  as  the  two  colonels  went  on. 
"  They  say  his  regiment  was  drilled  under  his  own  eye, 
and  he  knows  every  man  in  it  by  name." 

Major  Hervey  accompanied  us  back  through  the  heart 
of  the  town,  which  was  still  quite  upset  by  the  recent  ar- 
rival. It  was  after  sunset  when  we  reached  home,  and  as 
soon  as  we  were  within  doors  Cassy  reported  to  me  her 
conversation  with  Major  Hervey.  She  had  made  him 
acquainted  with  her  desire  to  return  to  ■Washington.  Lio- 
nel had  promised  to  see  her  across  the  lines  on  the  follow- 
ing day,  and  Mr.  Hervey,  himself,  was  to  accompany  her. 

Cassy  owned  her  anxiety  to  get  back.  Her  marriage 
was  to  take  place  before  the  close  of  the  summer;  and 
my  sister  found  it  necessary  to  be  under  Aunt  Bess's 
roof  immediately. 

As  I  and  Helen  were  to  be  bridesmaids,  Cassy  urged 
me  to  follow  her  to  Washington  by  the  close  of  July,  that 
I  might  be  prepared  for  the  ceremony. 

In  the  midst  of  all  this  discussion  there  was  scarcely 
time  to  aUude  to  the  event  of  the  past  day.  I  granted 
a  few  minutes  before  midnight  to  some  reflections  at  the 
window  of  our  rooms  looking  towards  the  village.  I 
judged,  from  the  constant  turmoil,  that  the  new- arrived 
branch  of  the  Confederate  army  was  not  yet  settled  in  its 
quarters,  and  wondered  whether  there  would  be  such  a 
tumult  in  that  direction  every  night. 


20G  BENSHAWE. 

"  I  can  hardly  recover  from  the  fact  that  you  have 
thrown  off  your  attachment  to  Berkley  so  easily,"  said 
Cassy.  "I  always  thought  that  if  you  were  ever  in  love 
you  would  never  conquer  it  in  three  months — you 
are  such  an  enthusiast — such  a  whole-souled  creature, 
Louise." 

'*  You  actually  seem  disappointed,"  said  I,  laughing, 
"  that  I  have  been  so  fortunate." 

"I  don't  understand  you.  I  don't  really  know  you, 
Louise,"  Cassy  continued,  restlessly. 

"  You  don't  see  why  I  was  ever  so  silly  ?" 
"  No,  I  understand  that.    I  was  really  captivated  by  him 
once,  myself;  but,  of  coui'se,  I  love  a  being  so  superior  to 

Berkley " 

"  Superior .'" 

Cassy  looked  at  me  with  exultation. 
''  You  need  not  suppose,"  said  I,  "  that,  because  I  am 
not   so   silly   as  formerly,  I   am  blind   to  the  fact  that 
Berkley  is  superior  to  the  majority  of  mankind." 

Cassy  chimed  in,  "  Oh,  yes — superior — majority,  cer- 
tainly," and  not  another  word  could  I  extort  from  her 
that  night. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

Q^yEN  days  or  more  had  gone  by.  No  member  of 
tiyj  the  family  had  been  in  the  village  since  its  occu- 
^^^  pation  by  the  Southern  troops,  and  of  the  doings 
there  we  only  learned  by  rumors.  Discontented  at  last 
with  the  seclusion  which,  though  self-imposed,  was  con- 
sidered expedient  in  the  unsettled  state  of  the  neigh- 
borhood, the  young  ladies  came  to  the  decision  to  vary 
its  monotony  by  a  day  spent  in  the  woods  at  Honey  ^ 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  207 

Island.  The  island  was  described  as  being  a  deligbtful, 
shaded  spot,  the  favorite  picnic  ground  at  White  Chim- 
neys, within  half  a  mile  of  the  suburbs  of  the  village, 
'  and  yet  too  public  a  place  to  be  at  all  dangerous.  The 
Chardavoynes,  a  family  of  some  importance  in  White 
Chimneys,  were  the  original  projectors  of  this  move. 
The  picnic  was  to  be  a  thoroughly  quiet  affair.  Nobody 
was  expected  to  go  but  the  Herveys  and  the  Charda- 
voynes, though  the  ladies  of  the  last  mentioned  family 
intimated  that  should  an  officer  drop  in,  they  would  not 
resent  the  intrusion. 

Not  a  few  of  the  officers  had  been  fi-equent  visitors  at  the 
Herveys'  domicile  for  the  last  week,  and  the  Chardavoynes 
knew  it,  wherefore  Sophia  expressed  confidentially  to  me 
her  opinion  that  the  Chardavoynes,  who  had  never  seemed 
to  value  their  society  particularly  before,  were  merely 
desirous  of  their  presence  at  the  picnic  as  a  magnet  to 
allure  the  officers,  and  Sophia  acknowledged  that  of  all 
admirers  of  the  gentlemen  in  black  and  gold  the  Misses 
Chardavoyne  were  the  most  enthusiastic. 

The  day  before  that  set  for  our  excursion  to  Honey 
Island,  I  came  in  from  a  morning  walk,  not  prolonged  very 
far  from  the  house,  found  the  ladies  all  on  the  piazza, 
and  three  officers  added  to  the  party.     Major  Hervey  sat 
smoking  on  the  steps.     Colonel  Hunter  was  busily  en- 
gaged in  mixing  punch,  with  coat-sleeves  rolled  back,  and 
a  peculiarly  happy  expression  of  face.     The  third  gentle- 
man was  one  whose  physiognomy  had  not  gladdened  my 
gaze  for  a  much  greater  length  of  time.     It  was  Judge 
Ostrander's  nephew,  and  his  novel  attire,  as  weU  as  the 
style  of  hairdressing  adopted  by  the  army,  had  created 
such  an  alteration  that  I  hardly  recognized  him  until  So- 
phia mentioned  "  Captain  Davis."     Colonel  Hunter  was 
chattering  so  volubly  that  no  side  conversations  were 
possible.     He  was  dilating  on  the  sensation  produced  in 
the  village  by  the  military  camp. 


208  RENSHAWE. 

"  Town's  fairly  upset,"  said  Hunter.  "  Yon  havn't  been 
down  lately,  and  you  can't  know  what's  going  on  unless 
somebody  tells  you.  By  George,  it  makes  me  think  of 
Miss  Austin's  novel,  Pride  and  Prejudice,  where  the  he- 
roine's sisters  kept  going  to  Mer^-ton — regiment  stationed 
at  Meryton,  you  know — and  the  women  at  Longbourne 
Tillage  were  all  the  time  rimning  there — some  important 
business,  of  course.  'V\Tiite  Chimneys  sees  the  same  sort 
of  thing.  "WHien  we  first  came,  we  never  saw  a  female  in 
the  streets,  from  sunrise  till  sunset.  Began  to  think  the 
place  hadn't  a  woman  in  it.  State  of  affairs  lasted  about 
three  days;  then  they  began  to  come  out  like  Mayflowers, 
dozen  or  so  at  first — now  the  place  blossoms  with  them. 
Of  course,  there's  enough  that  show  themselves  once  or 
so,  and  then  go  off  to  blush  unseen;  but  a  good  many 
appear  every  day  on  the  promenades." 

"  A  great  many  live  in  the  village,"  said  Mrs.  Trueman. 
"  They  cannot  help  that,  you  know." 

"No,  I  know  they  can't;  and  they  can't  help  running 
to  the  window,  of  course,  when  a  good-looking  officer 
steers  in  sight.  By  George,  when  we  first  came,  an  offi- 
cer was  an  officer,  old  or  young,  handsome  or  plain;  but 
they've  gi'own  discriminating  now — reserve  their  best 
smiles  for  the  best-looking  men.  Always  talking  about 
this  one's  eyes,  and  that  one's  style,  and  the  other  one's 
manners.  As  for  Berkley,  he  fairly  brings  down  the 
house.  Beauregard's  ]3hotographs  couldn't  go  off  fas- 
ter  " 

"^Tiat!  Are  Colonel  Berkley's  photographs  for  sale  ?" 
cried  Mrs.  Trueman. 

"  I  don't  know  that  they  are.  Don't  get  excited.  You 
didn't  let  me  fijiish.  I  say  Beauregard's  photographs 
couldn't  go  off  any  faster  than  Berkley's  on  the  score  of 
good  looks,  and  I've  known  people  look  after  Beaure- 
gard in  the  street — men  and  women,  too — that's  a  fact. 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  209 

Ever  seen  him  ?  Man  that  owns  the  daguerrean  gallery 
has  been  down  every  blessed  day  trying  to  get  us  to  come 
np  there  and  have  our  pictures  taken,  and  we've  been  put- 
ting him  off,  and  he  still  keeps  coming.  Suppose  he 
thinks  we'll  go  and  sit  just  to  get  rid  of  him.  Jackanapes ! 
he  knows  he'll  make  money  by  it.  He  shan't  make  any 
off  my  physiognomy,  I'll  be  sworn.  Now  the  next  thing 
that's  come  up  among  the  ladies,  shooting's  the  fashion. 
Heard  a  tremendous  banging  about  the  houses.  Didn't 
know  what  was  afoot.  Soldiers  forbidden  to  shoot,  you 
know.  Come  to  investigate,  found  it  was  the  ladies — 
whole  crowd  of  them — practising.  Got  me  up.  there  to 
show  them  how.  Can't  think  of  their  names — know  them 
well  enough,  too.  Very  clever  girls,  too,  they  are.  Quite 
respectable.  You  know,  Miss  Hervey,  those  young  ladies 
at  the  house  just  across  the  village — big  house,  overrun 
with  grape  vines,  and  all  kinds  of  vines." 

"Chardavoyne?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  the  Chardavoynes — that  is  the  name." 

"  So  you  know  them  ?" 

"Yes;  Chardavoyne  introduced  me  himself,  and  I've 
done  nothing  since  but  introduce  the  rest  of  the  officers. 
It's  a  great  set,  those  girls  are.  Not  half  so  afraid  of 
a  musket  as  they  are  of  a  fly.  I  was  up  there  last  week 
to  stay  all  night.  Just  went  out  on  the  piazza  in  the 
morning  for  a  smoke.  After  I  had  drawn  about  a  dozen 
puffs  they  all  came  out  screeching  and  screaming,  '  Oh 
Colonel  Hunter,  look  at  your  coat ! '  There  the  smoke 
had  brought  down  about  three  thousand  of  those  green 
caterpillars.  Don't  see  what  business  people  have  to  grow 
such  vines  round  their  front  doors  where  people  are  all 
the  time  smoking.  I  asked  the  young  ladies  to  take  off 
the  caterpillars;  but,  oh,  dear,  mercy,  they  wouldn't  touch 
one  of  them — trembled,  and  scattered,  and  left  me  alone 
there  to  my  own  resources,  and  so "  Colonel  Hunter 


210  RENSHAWE. 

began  a  snapping:  of  finger  and  thumb  about  his  ehoul- 
ders  and  head  to  illustrate  this  point  of  the  nar- 
rative. 

"  And  are  they  learning  to  shoot  ?" 

"  Yes — I  was  going  to  tell  you  all  about  it.  Down  at 
Chardavoyne's,  I  say,  this  morning,  the  Chadseys  and  the 
Timberlake  gii'ls,  and,  in  short,  all  that  tribe,  some  ten  or 
a  dozen  of  them  altogether;  and  I  was  trying  to  teach 
them  to  load  their  guns  without  filling  them  up  to  the 
muzzle,  and  they  saw  Berkley  coming  along  the  street, 
and  by  Jove  they  were  so  excited  that  they  nearly  got 
killed,  every  soul  of  them — shot  two  horses  and  a  nigger's 
hat,  and  broke  all  the  windows  in  the  house,  and  one 
bullet  went  right  through  my  hair.  Never  came  so  near 
getting  killed  in  my  Hfe." 

"  Shoot  Berkley  ?"  inquired  Captain  Davis. 

"  Lord,  no  !  They  took  devihsh  good  care  not  to  shoot 
him"  rejoined  the  colonel.  "  They  wern't  half  so  care- 
ful about  me.  Married  man  of  course — no  consequence 
where  I  went  to.  Muzzles  all  pointed  the  other  way 
when  he  came  in,  I  can  tell  you.  So  afraid  he  wasn't 
coming  in  that  they  told  me  to  ask  him.  Lord!  how  they 
did  stare  !  Nobody  spoke  above  her  breath.  As  soon 
as  he  was  gone  their  tongues  were  faii'ly  unlocked.  Talked 
about  him  all  the  while  I  was  there.  Hervey,  don't  you 
think  it  very  bad  taste  for  ladies  to  entertain  a  man  by 
praising  another  one's  fascinations  up  to  the  skies  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Major  Hervey. 

"  Very  bad  taste,"  chimed  in  Captain  Davis. 

"Of  course  it  is.  Miss  Chardavoyne  was  regularly 
enraged  with  me,  the  other  day,  because,  when  she  had 
been  executing  an  au'  on  the  piano,  I  began  to  tell  her 
how  well  my  wife  played.  She  walked  about,  and  fanned 
herself,  and  muttered,  'Of  course,  Mrs.  Hunter  is  the 
finest  perfonner  in  the  world.'    This  morning  I  was 


WHITE  CHIMNETS.  211 

tempted  to  remind  her  of  it,  when  she  was  enlarging  on 
Berkley's  perfections." 

"Perhaps,"  said  Major  Hervey,  "they  expected  you 
to  tell  him." 

"  To  be  sure  they  did.  I  knew  that  well  enough.  Oh, 
I  told  him  of  it.  'Berkley,'  says  I,  'they're  all  a  pack  of 
devilish  fools.'  So  they  are.  Just  mention  his  name,  and 
you've  touched  them  off.  I  don't  say  they're  the  only 
ones.  Yesterday  morning  those  Timberlake  gii'ls  came 
down  to  the  village,  and  walked  up  and  down  op23osite 
the  arsenal  two  or  three  hours,  stopping  first  at  one  place 
and  then  at  another,  waiting  aU  the  time  to  see  Berk- 
ley." 

"To  see  him— what  for?" 

"  Nothing.  Just  to  see  him  come  out.  As  soon  as  he 
had  gone,  they  went  about  their  business.  I  wasn't  there. 
You  saw  them,  Davis,  didn't  you  ?" 

"  No — Whipplestaff ,  told  me." 

"Yes,  I  had  it  from  Whipple,  too.  Reckon  he  perched 
himself  up  to  watch  their  movements." 

Sophia  was  not  a  Httle  indignant.  "  What  a  high-souled 
occupation!"  she  exclaimed.  "No  doubt  it  was  all  acci- 
dental !  Ladies  must  buy  ribbons  if  officers  are  in  the 
village.  I  don't  suppose  the  Misses  Timberlake  thought 
of  Colonel  Berkley  at  all." 

Hunter  laughed.  "  I  would  not  swear  to  that,"  said 
he.  "  Two  of  them  were  supping  at  Stileson's  the  other 
night,  when  Berkley  came  in  to  speak  to  me;  and  by 
George,  those  girls  put  down  their  knives  and  forks,  and 
stared  at  him,  fairly  lost  in  admiration — hadn't  seen  him 
before,  either." 

Major  Hervey  put  in  a  forcible  plea  for  the  young 
ladies. 

"The  Timberlake  gii'ls  are  artists,"  said  he;  "Ama- 
teurs, of  course,  and  the  eldest  one  paints  portraits  beau- 


212  RENSHAWE. 

tifuUy.  I  suppose  they  are  professionally  attracted  by 
Berkley's  face.  It  is  natural  enough  for  them  to  take  ob- 
servations regardless  of  appearances.  I  have  seen  them 
stare,  as  you  call  it,  at  a  female  face  in  the  same  way." 

"Well,  that's  confiiTQation,"  said  Hunter.  "Two  of 
them  saw  him,  and  stared;  and  as  you  say  they  are  artists, 
and  prone  to  stare,  they  brought  the  third  one  down  to 
stare  too.  'UTiipple  said  she  had  her  eyeglasses  up  as  soon 
as  they  told  her  Berkley  was  coming.  Needn't  tell  me 
they  were  down  there  just  to  buy  ribbons.  Berkley 
never  saw  them.     Officers  told  him  about  it  last  night." 

"How  intensely  flattered  he  must  feel!"  said  Sophia, 
looking  quite  annoyed. 

"Oh,  no;  he  didn't  believe  it..  Said,  as  you  did,  that 
the  ladies  were  probably  buying  clothes,  regardless  of  the 
officers.  That's  what  he  said.  Walby  thinks  Berkley 
knows  it  all  as  well  as  anybody.  Walby's  quite  disgusted, 
though  I'm  sure  he  gets  invitations  and  courting  enough 
about  the  village  to  satisfy  one  man's  vanity.  Here's  my 
punch — Miss  Hervey  try  it.  I'll  give  you  the  recipe  for 
your  picnic  :  One  quarter  lemonade,  and  t^o-thirds 
whiskey.  Milk  punch:  sugar  and  milk  one  part,  and 
whiskey  four  parts." 

Sophia  tasted  the  mixtui'e  and  put  down  her  glass. 
""WTiy  not  all  whiskey.  Colonel  Hunter?" 

"^\Tiy,  if  it  were  all  whiskey  it  wouldn't  be  punch. 
Tell  the  officers  you'U  give  them  some  of  Hunter's  punch, 
(that's  the  name  of  the  beverage,)  and  they'll  all  be  down 
at  your  picnic.  By  the  way,  "Miss  Gassy  Renshawe  has 
left  you.     I'm  soiTy — was  in  hopes  of  seeing  her." 

"  Gone  to  Washington,"  said  Sophia.  "Tou  know  her 
I  beheve,  Colonel  Hunter." 

"  Yes — caught  a  ghm^^se  of  her  the  other  day  in  the 
street.  Didn't  have  a  chance  to  speak  to  her.  She's  a 
very  pretty  girl.   I  said  so  to  Berkley.     Says  I,  '  Berkley, 


WHITE   CHIMNEYa  213 

*  that's  a  very  pretty  gii'l  that's  engaged  tjo  Laud  Hervey ;' 
and  says  he,  'Devilish  pretty  girl.'  So  she  is;  and  what's 
more,  she's  a  fine,  clever  girl.  I'm  indebted  to  her,  Lord 
knows  I  am.  Why,  if  it  hadn't  been  for  her  I  should 
never  have  seen  my  old  uncle  Jonas  in  his  last  moments;' 
she  came  there  and  found  him  just  dying,  and  his  wife  off 
at  a  party;  and,  George!  she  was  off  to  my  hotel,  and 
had  me  and  my  wife  on  the  spot.  Capital  girl,  that  Miss 
Cassy  Eenshawe.  Sorry  she's  gone.  I  was  coming  up 
to  call  on  her  just  the  very  evening  before  she  left  White 
Chimneys;  but  Walby  took  me  over  the  river  to  look  at  a 
spy,  or  what  he  took  for  a  spy,  and  I  couldn't  come." 

"  A  spy  ?"  repeated  Da-vds. 

"Yes,  you  must  know  we  got  into  a  kind  of  a  scrape 
up  in  Maryland,  at  a  Uttle  one-horse  town,  called  Rocky 
Cross,  and  it  was  all  the  fault  of  one  woman  they  said. 
Some  woman  had  been  up  at  my  camp  that  day  after 
a  trunk.  All  a  trick,  of  course.  Don't  remember  any- 
thing about  her,  and  Walby  was  so  thundering  polite 
to  her — got  out  her  trunk  for  her,  and  aU.  She 
sent  up  the  trunk  on  purpose  to  get  an  excuse  to 
come  after  it,  and  went  off  the  same  night  to  the  Union 
men  at  Caney  Fork,  and  had  them  aU  down  on  us  bright 
and  early.  Walby  thinks  her  name  was  Ryan — woman 
about  forty  years  old,  and  squint-eyed.  He  hasn't  seen  a 
woman  since  that  he  doesn't  take  for  the  same  person. 
Curious  how  he  takes  it  to  heart." 

The  punch  went  round  the  circle  just  in  time  to  bring 
Colonel  Hunter  another  subject,  and  my  mind  soon 
grew  relieved  of  some  apprehensions  to  which  his  late 
remarks  had  given  rise. 

The  picnic  prospected  was  spoken  of.  Hunter  and 
Davis  promised  to  join  the  party  at  some  time  during  the 
day,  and  Sophia  extended  the  invitation  no  farther,  quite 
certain  that  the  Chardavoynes  would  repair  the   defi- 


214  RENSHAWE, 

ciency.  Major  Hervey  owned  that  he  thought  picnics 
were  the  greatest  nonsense  imaginable;  but  if  so  many 
fascinating  ladies  were  coming  so  near  to  the  camp  as 
Honey  Island,  dismal  as  the  place  was,  he  could  not 
resist  the  attraction. 

"A  dismal  place!"  cried  Georgy.  "Oh,  Tiger,  how 
can  you  say  so !  It's  beautiful  green  woods,  and  candle- 
stick fixtures  on  the  trees,  and  the  river  is  lovely." 

The  incongruities  of  the  picture  did  not  distui'b  me. 
My  only  fear  was  that  of  meeting  Captain  Walby.  Of 
course  the  last  person  I  wished  to  see,  some  accident 
might  bring ;  but  as  I  had  not  the  least  recollection  of  his 
appearance,  and  was  confident  that  he  was  quite  as 
oblivious  of  my  own,  I  determined  that  the  sooner  our 
encounter  was  over  the  better,  and  prepared  my  soul  ac- 
cordingly. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

HOW    WE    GOT   THERE. 


•ULTEY  to  the  verge  of  oppressiveness  was  that 
r?^%  day,  perhaps  the  hottest  known  dming  the  July  of 
^^^^'that  memorable  summer.  If  our  party,  on  quitting 
the  cool  shade  of  Mr.  Hervey's  lawn,  had  known  how  hot 
it  was,  we  should  not  have  gone;  in  which  case  I  should 
have  lost  the  experience  of  the  day,  and  posterity  the 
account  of  what  we  took,  what  we  wore,  and  what  we 
went  in. 

1st.  All  wore  straw  hats,  and  white  muslin  dresses — 
INIiss  Renshawe  with  black  bows  attached.  (Amiable  crit- 
•ics  wlU  please  to  overlook  the  apparent  egotism  which 
omits  all  mention  of  the  appendages  of  the  other  ladies.) 

2d.  "We  took  black  Lucy,  also  several  baskets  of  pro- 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  215 

visions,  which,  not  to  aggravate  hungry  readers,  I  forbear 
to  detail. 

3d.  We  went  in  a  four-wheeled  carriage  with  the  side- 
curtains  rolled  up  for  the  sake  of  ventilation,  drawn  by- 
two  horses  of  stalwart  proportions,  and  engineered  by 
black  Peter,  a  young  negro  of  Mr.  Hervey's  establish- 
ment, in  love  with  black  Lucy. 

Sophia  had  given  orders  to  the  said  Peter  to  drive 
through  "White  Chimneys  with  speed,  consequently,  com- 
ing down  the  main  street  of  the  village  we  raised  quite  a 
dust.  We  found  the  Chardavoynes  akeady  gone  when 
we  reached  their  house,  and  drove  on  to  Honey  Island, 
arriving  there  about  noon,  and,  much  to  our  surprise, 
found  no  Chardavoynes  at  all. 

"  Gone  to  the  village,  no  doubt,  to  look  for  officers," 
remarked  Sophia.     "  It  would  be  just  like  them." 

Honey  Island  was  in  reaHty  no  island  at  all,  being 
merely  a  peninsulic  extravagance  of  the  coast,  rendering 
the  river  at  that  pass  about  half  its  usual  width.  The 
picnic  ground  was  a  margin  of  beautiful  green  woods  on 
the  western  cliffs  of  the  stream,  intersected  by  occasional 
rocks,  a  place,  on  the  whole,  where  the  sun  was  not  ex- 
pected to  shine,  but  where  it  did  shine  plentifully  on  every 
spot  where  we  tried  to  set  the  dinner-table. 

What  could  have  detained  the  Chardavoynes  was  for 
some  time  an  unsettled  question,  settled  at  last  by  the 
appearance  of  the  young  ladies  en  masse.  Errands  in 
the  village  had  detained  them,  and  one  accession  to  their 
party  had  probably  made  these  errands  less  burdensome. 
It  was  a  very  tall  officer,  in  huge  boots,  and  full  dress 
uniform,  with  a  very  haughty  and  disagreeable  face,  in- 
troduced by  Miss  Chardavoyne  to  the  company,  as  "Captain 
Horace  Edward  Livingstone  Walby,  of  the  staff  of  Colonel 
Hunter."  Captain  Walby,  by  five  profound  obeissances, 
acknowledged   the   quintuple  introduction,   and   seated 


216  RENSHAWB. 

himself  on  a  pile  of  rocks,  amid  a  group  of  admiring 
Chardavoynes,  The  rest  of  the  company  were  too  busy 
to  think  much  about  him.  Several  calamities  had  been 
discovered.  First  of  aU,  the  refreshments  deposited  in 
a  shady  place  had  been  attacked  by  the  sun  ;  and  the 
state  of  the  butter  was  only  matched  by  that  of  the  ices. 
All  the  forks  and  spoons  had  been  forgotten,  except 
three,  and  Peter  had  neglected  to  bring  oats  for  the 
horses.  Peter  was  sent  to  the  village  to  buy  oats,  and 
Lucy  to  the  Chardavoynes  for  table  furniture,  and  they 
marched  off  in  company. 

In  the  meantime  I  had  been  traversing  the  grounds, 
looking  for  a  lost  article,  and  as  I  examined  every  blade 
of  grass,  and  every  patch  of  sea-weed,  where  I  had  not 
been,  as  weU  as  where  I  had,  I  was  between  two  and 
thi'ee  hours  in  the  search,  and  at  last  rejoined  the  party, 
thoroughly  dispirited  with  my  ill  success.  I  found  them 
aU  talking  together  under  the  trees,  while  the  magnificent 
Captain  Walby  retained  the  same  attitude  which  he  had 
struck  on  first  taking  his  seat.  Sophia  was  tending  the 
fire,  kindled  under  the  tea-kettle,  on  the  rocks. 

"  How  soon  are  you  going  to  have  dinner?"  demanded 
Captain  Walby,  the  first  words  I  had  heard  him  utter 
like  a  man  fairly  awake. 

Sophia  spread  the  cloth,  and  selected  aU  the  viands 
undamaged  by  the  sun.  The  captain  viewed  the  opera- 
tion with  an  air  of  great  disgust. 

"  Do  you  do  this  sort  of  thing  yourselves  ?  TVhere 
are  your  servants?" 

'•  Oh,  I'm  not  embarrassed  by  it,"  said  Sophia,  conso- 
lingly. "  In  my  brother's  fanuly  at  the  North,  where  I 
lived  for  several  years,  there  was  but  one  servant.  I 
always  superintended  the  cookeiy,  and  garnished  the 
tables  with  my  own  hands." 

"Positively  shocking!"  pronounced  the  captain. 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  217 

On  Lucy's  arrival  with  the  spoons,  I  was  admonished, 
by  loud  calls  from  the  trees,  that  dinner  was  ready.  I 
left  a  second  investigation  of  the  bushes  as  unsuccessful 
as  the  first,  and  came  dejectedly  to  the  table. 

"  What  have  you  been  looking  for  ?"  asked  Sophia. 

"  My  pocket-book,"  I  replied. 

Miss  Chardavoyne,  either  because  my  answer  was  un- 
intelligible, or  for  the  sake  of  being  vdtty,  said  with  a 
siUy  laugh  to  Captain  Walby  :  "Did  she  say  her  heart  ?" 

"  No,"  said  the  captain,  subHmely  sarcastic  ;  "  some- 
thing that  lies  very  near  it ;  eh,  Mss  a — a — um  ?" 

"  Yes,"  I  acknowledged,  "  very  near  it." 

The  point  of  the  witticism  did  not  present  itself  tiU 
some  further  observations  enlightened  me.  They  were 
quite  audible,  though  made  in  an  undertone  to  Miss 
Chardavoyne.  Kefreshingly  prominent  were  :  "  Long 
Island  family,  eh  ?"  "  Wealthy,  eh  ?"  "  Mother  a  woman 
of  property — ah!  "  Eenshawe!  who  are  they?  I  never 
heard  of  them  before." 

As  one  Renshawe,  at  least,  had  never  heard  of  the 
Walbys  before,  the  misfortune  he  mentioned  was  not  laid 
very  keenly  to  heart.  He  next  inquired  how  much  money 
my  pocket-book  had  contained. 

After  taxing  my  recollection,  J.  replied,  "  between  four 
and  five  dollars." 

"My  stars!"  said  the  captain,  looking  around  upon 
the  ladies  who  were  politely  inquiring  where  I  had  last 
had  the  pocket-book.  "  My  stars !  nobody  need  to  be  very 
uncomfortable  about  that.  Why,  Miss  Renshawe,  do  you 
consider  that  so  very  much  money  ?" 

"  It  might  be  a  great  deal  to  some  people,"  said  I,  not 
feeUng  called  upon  to  give  a  direct  answer.  "  I  may  have 
seen  the  time  when  I  thought  it  a  great  deal,  and  may 
see  it  again,  but  apart  from  its  contents,  the  pocket-book 
was  invaluable  to  me." 
10 


218  RENSHAWE. 

"  A  pocket-book,  invaluable  !"  sneered  the  honorable 
captain.     Lower  tone — "  that's  genteel." 

Sophia  took  up  my  defence. 

"I  cannot  see,  Captain  Walby,"  said  she,  "why  it 
should  be  ungenteel  to  regret  the  loss  of  a  pocket-book." 

'Mr.  Walby  bowed  profoundly;  but  the  bow  was  one  of 
deference,  not  of  conviction.  For  some  reason  he  seemed 
to  take  an  interest  in  my  edification,  for  all  dinner-time 
he  kept  up  an  incessant  discourse,  interspersed  with 
severe  and  significant  glances  at  me,  mainly  directed 
against  parvenues — love  of  money — vulgar  people  grown 
rich — common  cu'cumstance  at  the  North — fashion 
among  them  to  put  money  before  birth  and  education; 
but  "with  all  theii'  wealth,  they  were  thoroughly  despised 
and  studiously  avoided  by  the  first  families. 

I  felt  these  remarks  very  unpleasantly;  but  there  was 
no  escape  until  dinner  was  over,  when  I  resumed  my 
search.  Captain  Walby  followed  at  a  sauntering  pace, 
and  while  I  looked  disconsolately  at  the  bushes,  wasted 
another  sentiment  on  my  unappreciative  ears: 

"  I  can  inform  you,  that  there  are  circles  where  you 
would  suffer  positive  exclusion,  if  you  were  even  to  inti- 
mate you  thought  a  pocket-book  of  value." 

I  made  no  reply,  and  whatever  information  the  captain 
might  farther  have  vouchsafed  at  that  juncture,  remains 
undecided,  as  approaching  uniforms  were  just  then  dis- 
cernible through  the  trees.  On  seeing  more  officers,  the 
Chardavoynes  were  thrown  into  quite  a  flutter.  Colonel 
Hunter  was  accompanied  by  a  gentleman  about  his  own 
height,  with  staring  black  eyes,  and  hair  still  blacker, 
quite  short,  and  disposed  to  stand  on  end  all  over  his 
head. 

"  Ladies,"  quoth  the  colonel,  "  we've  come  down  to  take 
tea  with  you.  Oh !  here's  !Miss  Renshawe !  My  dear  young 
lady,  I  must  really  beg  the  privilege  of  shaking  hands 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  219 

with  you,  I  did  not  know  who  you  were  yesterday;  didn't 
exactly  hear  your  name;  but  you're  Miss  Cassy's  sister,  I 
discover.  Miss  Gassy  and  I  are  great  friends,  famous 
friends;  and  I'm  only  sorry  its  not  a  Southern  man  she's 
goin^  to  marry;  but  Laud  Hervey's  a  fine  fellow,  a  capital 
fellow;  and  he  only  needs  to  be  in  our  army  to  be  worthy 
of  your  sister.  She's  a  noble  girl,  she's  not  afraid  of  the 
devil  in  horns  and  hoofs;  she  wasn't  at  all  afraid  of  him 
in  hoops  and  flounces,  circumvented  old  Hinda,  I  assure 
you.  You  know  old  Hinda?  By  George!  I  never'll 
forget  your  sister;  rushed  right  into  my  room  ahead  of 
the  footman,  eyes  sparkhng,  beautiful  as  an  angel. 

"'Mr.  Hunter,'  she  said,  'your  uncle's  dying— he 
wants  you  immediately — ^go  like  the  wind.' 

"  So  I  went  Hke  the  wind  and  I  got  there.  Poor  old  man 
was  just  off  the  hulks. 

"  'Godolphin,'  said  he,  '  I've  married  a  demoness  !' 

"  Told  the  truth  on  his  death-bed,  that  I'U  swear  to  !  and 
Fve  seen  your  sister  since,  and  though  she's  as  fair  as 
Aurora,  she  never  looked  as  she  did  that  night  in  my 
eyes,  and  never  will,  unless  she  opens  my  prison  door." 

Colonel  Hunter  dehvered  this  speech  with  glowing  face, 
shaking  my  hands  continually  throughout.     The  gentle 
man  who  had  been  left  all  this  time  in  the  background, 
ventured,  by  a  gentle  nudge,  to  remind  the  colonel  of  his 
presence. 

"  Oh !  Whipple,  I  forgot  you  ;  there  you  are,  to  be 
sure.  Ladies,  allow  me  to  present  to  your  honorable 
company,  my  esteemed  friend,  Captain  Whipple,  of  the 
staff  of  my  remarkable  colleague  and  brother-in-law. 
Colonel  Berkley.  WTiat's  all  that  you're  saying,  Whipple  ? 
eh,  Whipplestaft'?     Oh !  yes,  ladies,  this  is  Captain  Whip- 

plestaff,  of  the  th  regiment  of  North  Carohnians. 

Just  keep  quiet  a  minute,  Whipple;  the  ladies  can  wait 
for  your  conversation  tiU  I  get  through  apologizing  for 


220  RENSHAWK 

haying  brought  you.  Ladies,  Captain  Da^^s  was  very- 
much  detained  this  afternoon;  couldn't  get  down,  and 
thought  "Whipple  would  hke  to  come,  and  not  daring  to 
appear  all  alone,  I  asked  TMiipple,  and  he's  here.  Hope 
you'U  not  send  him  away." 

The  ladies  altogether  exclaimed  that  Captain  Whipple- 
staff  was  very  welcome — very  much  dehghted,  and  so  on. 

"Yes,  you  ought  to  be  pleased,"  said  Hunter.  "  AMiip- 
ple's  a  good  fellow,"  and  he  added  aside  to  me:  "affected 
as  the  deuce;  chatters  enough  to  deafen  one;  talks  fash- 
ionable Dutch,  stutters  when  he  is  angi-y;  but  they  won't 
find  it  out.  Ladies,  I  have  been  charged  with  a  message 
from  sundiy  of  your  sex  and  station  at  White  Chimneys, 
who  are  coming  this  evening  with  augmented  force." 

"  Ladies  to  join  our  party !"  said  jMiss  Chardavoyne, 
indignantly. 

"  Oh,  not  many !  only  the  Misses  Timberlake,  and  the 
]\Iisses  Chadsey,  and  the  IVIisses  Catherill,  and  the  j\Iissea 
Kenworthy,  and  the  Misses  " 

*'  Oh !  spare  the  catalogue  !"  cried  Miss  Chardavoyne. 
"  It  is  an  unparelled  piece  of  impudence.  We  will  all  go 
home  at  sunset,  and  you  may  come  to  supper  at  oui'  house." 

"Stay,"  said  Hunter;  "the  officers  are  all  coming 
along  with  them,  and  several  gentlemen  from  the  village, 
and  a  raft  of  niggers  first,  to  get  the  place  prepared  for 
the  invasion." 

This  information  calmed  the  indignant  lady,  and  her 
design  of  going  home  at  sunset  was  abandoned.  Just 
then  the  "  niggers  "  came  in  sight,  and  Colonel  Hunter's 
orders  were  given  at  once.  Two  bathing-houses  on  the 
sand  were  pulled  down,  and  rude  tables  nailed  up  at 
intervals  about  the  place,  and  the  lamps  attached  to  the 
trees  were  put  in  lighting  order.  The  colonel  ran  about 
expeditiously  after  the  niggers,  the  ladies  followed  the 
colonel,  and  iVIi\  A^Tiipplestaff  lagged  around  after  the 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  221 

ladies;  while  Mr.  Walby  sank  back  on  tlie  rock,  looked  a,t 
his  watch,  and  eyed  the  performance  with  occasional 
remarks  evincing  his  dissatisfaction. 

By  sunset,  at  which  time  the  negroes  were  dispatched 
by  the  colonel  to  the  camp  and  Stileson's,  charged  with 
commissions,  we  sat  down  on  the  cliffs  for  the  quiet  hour 
which  we  were  sui-e  would  ensue,  for  it  was  time  for  drill 
at  the  camp,  and  Hunter  was  sure  no  officers  would  show 
themselves  till  late  in  the  eveniner. 

"Is  Colonel  Berkley  coming  down  to-night?"  anxiously 
inquired  the  ladies. 

"Ask^ATiipple." 

Whipple,  quite  embarrassed  at  being  listened  to  by  so 
many  ladies,  cleared  hi^  throat,  hemmed  and  hawed,  and 
at  last  made  known  that  he  did  not  think  his  colonel 
could  come. 

The  Chardavoynes  scolded  Colonel  Hunter.  Hunter 
pretended  it  was  not  his  fault,  and  after  considerable 
discussion  seemed  quite  provoked. 

"Ladies,  he  can't  marry  all  of  you,"  he  said,  "and  what 
he's  to  do  unless  he  turns  Mormon,  and  you  all  emigrate 
to  Utah" 

"Now  Colonel  Hunter,  oh!  oh!  oh!"  Protestations 
grew  vehement.  Strangest  thing  that  ladies  could  never 
speak  well  of  a  gentleman,  without  being  accused  at  once 
of  designs  on  his  heart.  In  this  case  it  was  pecuHarly 
painful.  So  unkind  in  Colonel  Hunter  to  think  so;  so 
inhuman  in  him  to  suppose  so ;  so  cruel  in  him  to  say  so. 
Nobody  there  had  the  slightest  intention  of  marrying 
Colonel  Berkley.  Nobody  there  had  been  asked.  No- 
body would  think  of  it  if  she  were  asked. 

"I'm  really  quite  bewildered,"  Hunter  began.  If  he 
was  bewildered  all  the  better.  Now  then,  that  was  a 
dear  good  man,  couldn't  he  just  run  up  to  the  camp  to 
get  Colonel  Berkley  ?" 


222  RENSHAWE. 

"Can't  leave  the  camp  quiet  without  a  colonel,  yon 
know  we  can't,"  said  Hunter.  "  If  you  would  rather  have 
Berkley  here  than  me  " 

"Oh!  no,  no — won't  say  that;  only  change  with  him 
a  while.     You  see  you  have  been  here  all  the  afternoon." 

"  I'U  be  blo^Ti  if  I  have !  just  down  here  long  enough 
to  put  up  the  tables  and  smoke  half  a  cigar.  No,  by  Jove ! 
you  wan't  to  get  rid  of  me,  and  substitute  Berkley ;  I  un- 
derstand it." 

"  But  where's  Colonel  Albee  ?  Can't  he  take  care  of  the 
camp  to-night  ?" 

"  Albee's  busy;  however,  I  can  tell  him  that  you  can't 
live  down  here  without  ferkley,  and  may  carry  the 
point." 

As  long  as  the  point  was  carried,  the  ladies  cared  very 
little  how  it  was  done.  They  looked  anxiously  at  the  de- 
clining sun,  but  Colonel  Hunter,  regardless  of  the  hint, 
waited  to  do  full  justice  to  his  discontent. 

"  You  are  just  Hke  that  fellow  that  takes  photographs 
up  in  the  village,  ladies,  only  if  it  wasn't  for  your  running 
in  to  get  x^ictures,  he  wouldn't  be  pesteiing  us  to  have 
them  taken.  Lord !  ^\Tiipple,  you  noticed  how  he  had 
his  focus  turned  toward  Berkley's  end  of  the  canvas. 
There  wasn't  a  feature  in  my  face  that  was  distinguish- 
able. Fellow  bothered  us  nearly  to  death  about  it,  so  to- 
day Berklej"  took  his  staff,  and  I  mine,  and  went  up  to 
the  gallery.  Suppose  I  shall  see  placarded  Colonel  Hun- 
ter and  staff,  and  the  ladies  all  saying,  what  a  fine-look- 
ing staff  and  black-a-vised  colonel." 

"T\Tiat!  cried  Captain  Walby,"  do  you  mean  to  say 
you  have  had  the  staff' photographed  while  I  was  absent?" 

"  Lord !  Walby,  I  forgot  all  about  you,  I  did,  upon  my 
soul;  but  the  whole  staff' wasn't  photographed  ;  couldn't 
get  them  all  together.  I  found  two,  and  Berkley  took 
line  officers.     Picture-monger  said  he  didn't  care ;  what 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  223 

he  wanted  was  the  group;  he  was  a  genteel  little  fellow; 
he's  a  Yankee;  keeps  round  the  army;  wants  to  make 
money,  I  suppose.  Lord !  that's  what  they  all  want.  I 
asked  him  if  he  was  a  pre-Eaphaelite  ;  didn't  suppose  he 
could  understand  me,  but  Lord !  yes,  he  was  all  posted 
up;  flourished  away  about  centre-pieces  and  subordi- 
nates, and  so  on.  I  told  him  if  he  was  a  pre  Kaphael- 
ite  we  would  all  go  away  again;  but  he  swore  he  wasn't, 
and  so  as  it  was  to  be  a  wood  scene,  we  all  went  out 
under  the  trees  to  arrange  ourselves.  I  stood  up  in  the 
middle,  and  got  the  rest  all  bestowed  around,  and  Berk- 
ley sat  off  sideways  on  a  rock  at  the  end  of  the  group, 
and  I'll  be  blamed,  when  the  fellow  came  out  with  his 
machine,  his  jaws  fell  a  full  yard.  'Come,'  says  I,  'I'm 
the  central  figure ;  look  out  for  me  and  hang  the  subordi- 
nate figures.'  By  George  !  he  wanted  Berkley  to  come 
up  alongside  of  me,  shoulder  to  shoulder,  hke  Siamese 
twins;  but  I  wouldn't  budge,  and  Berkley  sat  like  a  part 
of  the  rock.  So  after  groaning  over  it  considerably,  he 
took  the  crowd  just  as  we  stood  and  sat.  Finally  he 
took  us  all  pre-Kaphaelite." 

"  How  was  that  ?" 

"  ^Vhy  separately — that  is,  all  but  Berkley;  he  couldn't 
wait,  and  I  reckon  the  fellow's  got  aU  the  picture  he'll 
get  out  of  him.  I  staid  to  see  the  proofs  of  the  group — 
Lord !  Walby,  you  needn't  be  sorry  you  were  not  there. 
We  all  looked  Hke  a  parcel  of  devils.  Whipple  had  two 
heads  and  two  pairs  of  arms;  got  nervous,  you  see,  and 
turned  towards  me;  and  I  was  a  great  dim  object,  with 
no  feet  nor  hands  at  all.  Suppose  the  fellow  will  cut  off 
Berkley's  negative  and  throw  the  rest  away.  That  was 
my  ad^ice  to  him  when  we  parted." 

As  it  was  growing  quite  late,  the  Chardavoynes  were 
unable  to  conceal  their  uneasiness,  and  Colonel  Hunter 
was  ui'ged  off  with  httle  ceremony. 


224  RENSHAWE. 

It  was  not  long  before  the  evening  reinforcements  be- 
gan to  aiTive.  The  grounds  soon  presented  a  scene  of 
gaiety  far  different  from  their  appearance  during  the 
more  quiet  hours  of  the  afternoon.  IMiddle  aged  ladies 
and  young  ladies,  escorted  in  the  proportion  of  one  gal- 
lant to  half  a  dozen,  appeared  in  the  successively  strag- 
gling parties.  Officers  and  gentlemen  came  in  knots  and 
groups,  from  camp  and  village,  as  soon  after  drill-hour 
as  might  reasonably  be  expected.  The  band  attached 
to  Col.  Hunter's  regiment  had  been  for  some  time  by  the 
river-side,  and  occasional  waltzers  attempted  circulation 
about  the  trees. 

Sophia  had  introduced  me  to  IVIiss  Timberlake,  and*  I 
led  the  conversation  shortly  to  the  art  of  painting, 
which  I  knew  we  should  find  a  congenial  subject.  ^Vliile 
we  were  conversing,  a  thin  consumptive  looking  gentle- 
man, about  fifty  years  of  age,  came  up  to  speak  to  ^liss 
Timberlake.  He  thanked  her  for  the  late  service  she  had 
rendered  him,  mentioned  that  he  had  just  been  at  Mr. 
Hervey's,  was  told  that  the  young  ladies  were  at  Honey 
Island,  and  had  come  down  to  see  them.  As  he  went 
on,  I  asked  my  companion  his  name. 

"Mr.  Laud,  said  she;  a  brother-in-law  of  !Mr.  Hervey. 
I  have  just  been  painting  his  niece's  portrait  for  him — 
Mi'S.  Lionel  Hervey." 

As  jMrs.  Trueman  had  come  up,  this  topic  was  dropped 
at  once.  Our  trio  took  seats  at  a  spot  not  the  best 
lig-hted  on  the  gi'ound.  Messrs.  Walby  and  Whipple- 
staff  had  reinforced  our  group,  and  the  gladdening  vision 
of  Captain  Davis  was  shortly  added  to  the  party.  We 
all  bade  him  a  cordial  welcome,  and  he  seated  himself  at 
the  most  available  place,  which  was  just  by  me.  The 
people  generally  were  at  supper,  and  some  cofi'ee  and 
sandwiches  were  distributed  among  our  pai-ty.  Captain 
Walby  had  declared  frequently,  he  thought  it  time  for 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  225 

supper,  but  lie  looked  askance   at  the  sandwiches  and 
scowled  over  the  coffee. 

"Miss  Kenshawe,  haven't  you  lost  a  pocket-book?" 
asked  Davis;  and  he  produced  a  well  worn  article  of 
leather,  secured  by  a  plain  elastic  strap. 

"  Oh,  Captain  Davis !  you  have  found  it !  I  am  so,  so 
grateful  to  you!"     I  exclaimed,  warmly. 

"My  conscience!"  exclaimed  Captain  Walby  ;  "is  that 
the  pocket-book  you  have  been  making  such  a  time 
about?" 

"  Captain  Walby,"  said  I,  "  this  pocket-book  was  a  last 
gift  from  my  late  father." 

This  mild  rebuke,  I  trusted  would  put  an  end  to  the 
captain's  strictures  on  my  recent  sohcitude,  ^d  quite 
silenced  he  went  back  to  the  sandwich. 

"  Who  told  you  I  had  lost  a  pocket-book  ?"  I  said  to 
Davis,  when  the  first  flash  of  my  gratitude  had  subsided. 

"  I  knew  by  the  contents." 

This  answer  surprised  me.  My  name  was  nowhere 
inside,  not  even  a  card  ;  the  only  paper  it  contained  was 
that  prophecy  of  Canton  Lecompton,  which  had  re- 
mained there  ever  since  my  inspection  of  it  at  Mrs. 
Ostrander's.  I  was  burning  to  ask  Captain  Davis  some 
further  questions,  but  he  was  too  much  engaged  in  Hs- 
tening  to  Captain  Walby,  who  was  explaining  the  intri- 
cacies of  his  connection  with  the  great  families  of  the 
realm  ;  saying  that  he  had  always  scolded  his  mother 
for  not  having  named  him  Hamilton  Livingstone  Walby. 
As  it  was,  he  always  called  himself,  Livingstone  Walby 
— H.  E.  Livingstone  Walby — sometimes  at  home  he  was 
called  Horace,  in  a  playful  manner  by  his  sisters,  but 
Livingstone  was  really  the  name  he  delighted  in. 

"  My  family,"  began  Captain  Whipplestaff. 

"  Your  family,  what  are  you  talking  of?"  said  Walby, 
indignantly. 

10^ 


226  EENSHAWE, 

"  Talking  about  the  "Wlnpplestaffs  of  cauth.  The 
fii'st  "WTiipplestaffs  came  over  in  the  fleet  of  Ponce  de 
Leon,  Captain  Walby  " 

"I  thought  that  fleet  perished  off  the  face  of  the 
earth,"  remarked  one  of  the  company. 

Captain  ^Miipplestaff  said  that  was  quite  a  mistake. 

"Walby  turned  a  scornful  shoulder,  and  Captain  Whip- 
plestaff  addressed  his  narratiye  to  IVIrs.  Trueman,  res- 
pecting some  manuscript  left  by  his  ancestor,  containing 
a  succinct  account  of  the  voyage  and  expedition. 

At  this  juncture,  the  sound  of  some  very  clear  voices 
.became  raised  among  the  crowd,  about  the  tables,  and 
every  one  was  silent  to  listen.  A  certain  plea  had  been 
put  in  for  the  North  ;  by  what  ventm-esome  soul  I  did 
not  discover;  but  venturesome  he  certainly  was,  who  so 
spoke  in  the  face  of  all  those  Confederate  uniforms,  and 
secession-badged  coats.  The  gentleman  who  had  spoken 
was  not  a  Union  man,  or  if  he  was,  his  sentiments  were 
not  uttered  in  full ;  but  he  had  remarked,  that  the  mass 
of  people  at  the  Noii:h  were  probably  deluded  by  their 
leaders  into  believing  that  they  had  a  warrant  for  their 
invasion  on  the  Southern  soil. 

He  was  answered — answered  in  a  voice  I  hardly  recog- 
nized, it  was  so  long  since  I  had  heard  it.  "  No  such 
delusion,"  the  speaker  said,  "  could  possibly  exist.  The 
gentleman  did  not  know  what  the  North  was.  Never 
was  there  a  country  so  lowered,  politically,  socially  and 
morally.  A  detestable  Yankeeism — and  that  idea  was 
one  that  no  other  term  under  Heaven  could  render — per- 
vaded its  society,  to  the  same  extent  that  it  imbued  the 
whole  tone  oi  its  Uterature.  The  standard  of  those  men 
who  led  the  masses  was  not  an  elevated  standard.  He 
would  not  say  that  honor  and  principle  were  unknown 
at  the  North,  but  they  were  not  the  fashion  there.  The 
people  were  actuated  by  no  other  principle  than  the  love 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  227 

of  plunder;  by  no  other  patriotism  than  the  promptings 
of  envy.  As  for  the  honor  of  the  North,  there  were  the 
AboUtionists,  venomous  snakes,  who  had  been  spitting 
their  venom  at  the  Divine  institution  of  Slavery,  who 
would  see  the  very  flames  of  the  sun  at  mid-heaven 
quenched  in  blood  without  compunction,  shrinking  back 
from  the  open  field  now  that  it  had  come  to  actual  con- 
test.— Why,  enough  was  said  of  the  honor  of  the  North  in 
the  fact  that  those  men  had  not  had  their  necks  stretched 
years  ago." 

The  pale  middle  aged  gentleman,  whose  name  Miss 
Timberlake  had  said  was  Laud,  asked  Sophia  the  name 
of  the  speaker. 

"  It's  Colonel  Berkley,  of  the  — th  regiment  of  North 
Carolina,"  said  Sophia. 

"  Very  sound  man,"  was  Mr.  Laud's  rejoinder. 

"Is  that  Berkley?"  said  Captain  Walby,  looking  up 
with  some  animation.  "  Pretty  well  done  for  him  I  must 
say." 

Colonel  Berkley's  interlocutor  went  on  to  say  that  the 
North  did  not  know  them,  nor  they  the  North. 

"  And  God  forbid,"  rejoined  Berkley,  "  that  we  should 
ever  know  each  other  better." 

The  gentleman,  growing  bold  from  opposition,  said 
that  it  was  not  well  to  listen  always  to  one  side  of  a  case. 
He  thought  injustice  had^  been  done  the  North,  by  mis- 
representation in  the  Southern  papers;  for  instance,  the 
common  report  connected  with  the  enhstment  of  the 
notorious  Wilson  zouaves,  must  be  an  exaggeration. 

If  you  think  that  the  Southern  papers,"  said  Colonel 
Berkley,  "  have  exaggerated  the  fact,  that  a  gang  of 
pickpockets  and  thieves  were  recruited  from  the  lowest 
dens  in  New  York,  to  fill  the  ranks  of  the  Northern 
army,  perhaps  you  may  believe  the  account  theii*  own 
press  gives  of  the  matter." 


228  RENSHAWE. 

A  newspaper  was  here  unfolded,  and  Berkley  read 
aloud,  in  his  most  animated  manner,  an  exti'act  relating 
to  the  regiment  alluded  to — full  of  details  of  a  scene  at 
the  recruiting  office,  where  the  commanding  officer 
charged  his  "  boys  "  that  they  would  all  be  in  hell  in  six 
weeks,  and  took  a  vote  on  their  willingness  to  go  there. 

"  Now,  then,"  demanded  Berkley,  as  he  crushed  and 
threw  aside  the  paper,  "  what  shall  be  said  of  the  cant- 
ing hypocrites,  who  laud  their  own  cause  as  the  right- 
eous and  true,  when  they  openly  fight  with  such  weapons 
as  these?  For  those  blasphemous  wretches  hell  has 
reserved  its  blackest  damnation,  and  the  mercy  of  heaven 
itself  is  not  equal  to  the  stupendous  task  of  their  forgive- 
ness !" 

Such  indignation  as  that  manifest  through  the  assem- 
bly it  had  seldom  been  my  lot  to  witness,  and  consider- 
ing against  whom  it  was  dii-ected,  its  ebullitions  were  far 
from  pleasant.  Sparkling  eyes — miu'murs  of  "  outrage- 
ous," "  abominable,"  etc., — murmurs  growing  almost  into 
hisses,  rose  on  every  side.  For  my  own  part,  all  I  could 
do  was  to  possess  my  soul  in  patience,  and  reflect  on 
the  multitudinous  ways  in  which  the  world  did  itself 
injustice.  I  sank  imder  an  invincible  dejection,  and 
from  my  obscure  station,  which  I  had  now  no  wish  to 
leave,  watched  the  faces  in  the  company,  reahzing  how 
thoroughly  I  was  among  foes — every  soul  there,  with  the 
exception  of  those  who,  like  myself,  were  nowhere,  hos- 
tile to  the  cause  in  which  my  whole  heart  was  bound  up. 
I  keenly  regretted  the  circumstances  that  had  thrown  me 
here  into  a  nest  of  rebels,  where  I  was  forced  to  Hsten  to 
abuse  of  my  country,  and  hear  aspersions  cast,  and  reflec- 
tions made  on  the  government,  which  were  enough  to 
outrage  the  common  sense  of  those  with  whom  prejudice 
had  not  gained  the  upper  hand  of  reason.  Chief  of  all  I  felt 
incensed  against  Berkley.     Was  I  not  conscious,  in  my 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  229 

own  soul,  tliat  in  his  representation  of  the  North,  he  had 
known  that  he  had  not  done  justice  to  that  great  and 
magnanimous  community?  Could  he  be  so  deceived  as 
to  believe  all  he  had  said,  or  was  I  without  the  power  to 
judge?  At  aU  events,  never  had  I  felt  so  roused.  I 
watched  the  rebel  colonel  with  a  hostile  heart,  regarded 
with  jealous  eyes  the  evidences  of  favor  in  which  he  was 
held,  and  those  evidences  were  numerous  and  conspicu- 
ous to  a  painful  degree.  He  was  always  in  a  crowd. 
There  was  some  one  on  the  right,  on  the  left,  and  before 
him  continually.  Ladies  paused  in  the  promenade  to 
make  passing  inquiries,  some  even  to  offer  their  hands.  I 
gazed  as  they  floated  about  him,  with  their  waving  fans 
and  graces,  and  marked  his  smiles,  and  words,  and  inter- 
ested eyes,  stri-\dng  to  realize  that  this  was  the  man  whose 
disloyal  sentiments  had  been  so  recently,  and  so  unpleas- 
antly obtrusive. 

I  was  not  a  little  vexed  with  myself  to  find  that  I  had 
been  looking  forward  all  the  afternoon  to  a  probable  meet- 
ing with  Berkley  in  the  evening,  with  anticipations  of 
pleasure.  An  unnoticed  witness  of  the  late  scene,  my 
sentiments  had  entirely  changed.  I  felt  now  only  un- 
quahfied,  irrepressible  indignation,  and  my  determination 
was  taken  to  avoid  him  as  far  as  possible,  and  to  quit 
Honey  Island  without  seeing  him  at  all.  This  was  a  very 
easy  matter.  As  I  before  intimated,  Berkley  was  at  no 
loss  for  society,  and  until  the  moment  that  he  quitted  the 
ground  not  a  word  did  he  exchange  with  me. 

It  was  about  ten  o'  clock  when  the  party  broke  up,  and 
began  to  disperse  with  the  carriages.  Black  Peter  had 
gone  for  ours  among  the  first  servants  so  commissioned, 
but  carriage  after  carriage  rolled  away,  and  ours  came 
not.  Everybody  that  ive  knew  had  gone  except  the 
Misses  Chardavoyne,  and  Messrs.  Hunter,  "Walby  and 
Whipplestaff;  and  Sophia,  growing  very  anxious  at  the 


230  KENSHAWE. 

unaccountable  delay,  at  last  sent  Colonel  Hunter  to 
what  had  become  of  Peter  and  the  horses. 


CHAPTER  XXni. 


HOW  'wt;  got  back. 


UNTER  came  back  and  brought  Peter  with  him, 
that  faithful  domestic  being  in  quite  a  state  of  ex- 
citement. Neither  horses  nor  carriage  were  to  be 
found,  and  he  had  gleaned  from  some  niggers  that  some 
thieves  had  been  seen  with  some  horses  and  carriages,  and 
gone  off  somewheres,  but  nobody  could  tell  where. 

This  was  intelligence  bewailed  by  the  principal  suffer- 
ers, and  treated  with  sympathy  by  the  rest  of  the  party. 
The  first  consideration  that  presented  itseK  was  to  get 
home  as  well  as  we  could.  A  set  of  open  horse-cars  ran  all 
summer  through  White  Chimneys.  The  last  one  for  that 
night  was  just  going.  The  Chardavoynes  were  among  the 
passengers,  and  it  was  hailed  by  dint  of  considerable  hal- 
looing by  three  officers,  and  called  upon  to  make  room  for 
nine  persons.  Room  there  seemed  to  be  in  plenty.  The  la- 
dies of  the  party  hurried  in,  and  Captains  Walby  and  TMiip- 
plestaff  took  the  front  seat  just  back  of  the  driver.  This 
car  went  nowhere  near  the  Herveys',  though  it  ran  close 
to  ^Irs.  Chardavoyne's,  and  after  some  consultation  with 
Colonel  Hunter  it  was  decided  that  we  should  all  get  out 
at  Stileson's  hotel,  and  there  hire  a  carriage  which  should 
convey  us  home  directly. 

This  arrangement  had  been  happily  perfected,  when 
Colonel  Hunter,  leaving  us  in  the  care  of  the  other  gen- 
tlemen, and  engaging  to  meet  us  at  Stileson's,  went  back 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  231 

for  his  horse  to  the  picnic-ground,  while  the  car  proceed- 
ed with  its  precious  charge.  It  soon  began  to  dawn  upon 
me,  from  certain  intimations  in  front,  that  our  gallant 
escort,  Walby  and  Whipplestaff,  had  partaken  of  the  cup 
that  cheers  before  it  inebriates;  at  least  Captain  Whipple- 
staff's  frame  of  mind  appeared  to  be  extremely  cheerful. 
He  was  exceedingly  good-natured,  giggled  incessantly, 
and  addi-essed  himself  to  his  companion  with  a  levity 
which  that  individual  bore  with  sing-ular  patience. 

"  Have  you  got  any  cigars,  Walby  ?" 

Walby  produced  a  roll  of  the  twisted  leaf  which  he 
handed  his  companion — the  latter  selected  a  cigar,  and 
threw  the  package  back — over  Walby's  head,  out  of  the 
car.  Walby  rushed  out,  picked  up  the  cigars,  and  ran  after 
the  car,  which  the  conductor  declared  he  could  not  stop 
for  anybody — behind  time,  now,  twenty  minutes  ;  and 
the  captain  regained  his  seat  with  some  difficulty.  Wal- 
by informed  his  companion,  rather  severely,  that  he  had 
better  not  do  that  again.  "Whipplestaff's  amusement  on 
this  charge  reached  its  height.  He  giggled  incessantly, 
annoyed  Captain  Walby  by  asking,  "  Did  you  get  it  ?" — 
"  Now  reaUy,  you  did  not  get  it,  did  you  ?"  and  declar- 
ing, several  times  over,  "  Well,  before  I'd  run  so  far  for  a 
roll  of  bad  cigars,  I'd  buy  anothah." 

The  next  event  that  occurred  to  furnish  variety,  was, 
that  Captain  ^Vhipplestaff,  in  his  endeavor  to  knock  off 
Captain  Walby's  hat,  precipitated  Miss  Chardavoyne's 
parasol  out  of  the  car.  The  conductor  swore  the  car 
couldn't  be  stopped  for  aU  the  parasols  in  creation.  Cap- 
tain Walby  got  out  thereupon,  while  the  car  was  going,  re- 
gained the  parasol,  and  followed  up  the  car  with  a  much 
longer  chase  than  the  preceding  one.  Quite  out  of 
breath  he  regained  his  seat,  and  restored  the  parasol. 
]VIiss  Chardavoyne  thanked  him  most  graciously,  and 
Captain  Whipplestaff  giggled  again  to  that  extent  that 


232  RENSHAWE. 

all  the  ladies  pronounced  among  themselves  opinions 
antagonistic  to  his  gentility.  If  these  low-toned  verdicts 
reached  his  ear,  they  had  no  effect  on  his  hilarity,  or  his 
attacks  against  Captain  Walby's  hat,  which  he  succeeded 
in  knocking  off  about  a  dozen  times.  Captain  Warlby 
changed  his  position  several  times — several  times  said  se- 
verely, "  Don't  do  that  again,  "Whipplestaff — you'd  better 
not,  really,"  all  without  effect.  Pretty  soon  the  hat  went 
off  as  we  were  crossing  a  bridge.  It  went  down  into 
the  water.  Exclamations  arose.  The  car  was  stopped, 
and  wlule  evei-ybody  was  saying,  "  "What  a  pity !" — "  what 
a  shame!" — "  too  bad!"  etc.,  Captain  Walby  stood  at  the 
end  of  the  bridge  looking  down  with  a  very  profound  air, 
possibly  quite  forgetful  of  those  lofty  circles,  whose  sen- 
tence would  be  "  exclusion,"  upon  regi'et  at  such  a  trifling 
loss.  The  di'iver  ran  down  the  bank  after  the  hat — dis- 
appeared under  the  bridge.  The  conductor,  in  a  state  of 
desperation  took  the  reiQS.  The  car  went  on.  Eveiy- 
body  inside  called  out  not  to  leave  so  many  people;  so 
the  car  stopped  again.  Pretty  soon,  back  came  Captaia 
Walby,  the  driver,  and  the  hat.  Captain  Whipplestaff,  a 
little  sober  dui'ing  the  pui'suit,  seemed  threatened  with 
convulsions,  when  Captain  Walby  looked  at  him,  and 
advised  him  not  to  do  that  again !  Probably  contented 
with  his  recent  success.  Captain  Whipplestaff  limited  fur- 
ther display  of  his  wit  to  verbal  attacks  on  his  brother  in 
arms,  asking  repeatedly,  "  Did  you  get  it  ?" — "  You 
wouldn't  have  got  it  if  it  had  not  been  for  that  feUow 
in  fi'ont."  "  He  went  down  in  the  mud  up  to  his  knees." 
"I'd  give  him  some  money  if  I  were  you."  "Really  it's 
quite  miwackulous  about  that  hat  of  youahs,  Walby.  I 
didn't  think  you'd  evah  see  it  again." 

Captain  Walby  treated  the  boyish  folly  of  his  compan- 
ion with  a  silence  that  was  quite  sublime.  We  were  very- 
glad  that  the  lights  at  Stileson's  gave  warning  of  release; 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  233 

and  bidding  the  Chardavoynes  "good-night,"  we  went 
into  the  hotel,  while  Colonel  Hunter  humed  back  to  the 
livery  stable  connected  with  it  to  find  a  conveyance  to 
take  us  home.  After  a  lengthy  tan-ying  in  the  parlor  of 
the  hotel  on  our  jDart,  Colonel  Hunter  rejoined  us  with 
the  intelligence  that  we  would  be  obliged  to  wait  some 
minutes  for  the  horses,  and  that  in  the  mean  time  he 
begged  we  would  come  in  and  have  supper  before  pro- 
ceeding further.  Supper  would  be  ready  in  a  very  few 
minutes.  Mrs.  Trueman,  it  was  plain,  did  not  know  how 
to  refuse.  After  extorting  a  promise  from  Colonel  Hun- 
ter that  we  should  be  informed  at  the  precise  minute  the 
horses  came,  she  consented,  and  we  were  ushered  into  a 
saloon  adjoining,  hung  with  secession  colors,  and  took 
seats  at  a  table  where  Stileson's  negroes  were  arranging 
cold  fowls  and  wines  in  all  the  order  that  their  profusion 
would  admit  of.  In  the  middle  of  it  all  voices  sounded 
without.  Colonel  Hunter,  who  had  just  laid  aside  his 
gloves  for  the  task  of  carving,  rushed  to  the  door,  and 
called  upon  quite  a  party  in  the  hall  to  enter.  One  after 
another,  in  came  the  Misses  Chardavoyne,  Captain  Da- 
vis, Captain  Walby,  and  Captain  Whipplestaff.  An  acci- 
dent had  happened  to  the  car,  and  they  had  all  come  back 
to  Stileson's,  to  wait.  Just  as  they  were  all  established 
about  the  table  it  transpired  that  Colonel  Berkley  was 
without  talking  to  Mr.  Stileson.  Vigorous  calls  for  Col- 
onel Berkley  ensued,  and  the  Chardavoynes  were  at  the 
summit  of  bliss  when  that  gentleman  appeared  in  all  his 
glory. 

If  there  had  been  any  possible  way  in  which,  without 
making  myself  unduly  conspicuous,  I  could  have  with- 
drawn from  the  company  on  the  spot,  I  would  have  then 
and  there  taken  a  step  to  which  my  wrath  against  Colonel 
Berkley  strongly  prompted,  me.  But  to  leave  now,  that 
everybody  was  seated  at  table,  was  a  measui*e  by  which  I 


234  RENSHAWE. 

did  not  need  to  be  told  more  would  be  lost  than 
gained. 

"  Uncork  the  bottles,  Berkley,"  said  Hunter  ;  "  I'm 
glad  you've  come.  Peter,  what  are  you  gaping  at  ? — get 
the  cork-screw !" 

Colonel  Berkley  had  just  been  speaking  to  me  ;  it  was 
true  he  had  not  said  much,  but  something  was  due,  con- 
sidering how  long  a  time  it  was  since  we  had  last  met, 
and  my  rephes  were  as  satisfactory  as  ill-stifled  resent- 
ment would  allow  me  to  make  them.  They  were  not  so 
enchanting  as  to  detain  Berkley  long,  and  the  next  min- 
ute he  appeared  to  be  quite  oblivious  to  my  statehness, 
among  the  bottles  in  ice,  which  stood  at  his  elbow.  The 
corks  came  off,  and  the  bottles  were  passed  up  the  table. 

"  Now,  gentlemen,"  said  the  outspoken  Colonel  Hunter, 
who,  at  this  point,  appeared  to  think  some  caution  was 
necessary,  "  I  beg  you  will  not  forget  that  this  is  not  a 
mere  gentleman's  oyster-supper,  though  it  is  after  twelve 
o'clock.  Bear  in  mind  that  there  are  ladies  present,  and 
be  careful  of  your  language  and  your  glasses." 

"Sir,"  rejoined  Captain  Walby,  in  tones  of  rebuke,  "I 
may  safely  say  that  I  never  exceed  the  bounds  of  de- 
corum in  my  potations,  and  I  never  converse  when  with 
gentlemen  in  any  different  language  fi'om  that  which  I 
use  when  ladies  are  present." 

"You  should  be  chaplain,"  said  Berkley,  while  the 
ladies  all  gazed  on  the  captain  with  approbation. 

"It's  a  gweat  humbug,"  mui-mured  ^Ir.  WTiij^plestaff. 
"Didn't  you  indulge  in  pwofane  language  to-night?  I 
thought  I  heard  something  pwofane  to-night,  when  you 
stood  by  the  bwidge,  Captain  Walby." 

"  Captain  TMiipplestaff  had  knocked  my  hat  into  the 
water,"  said  Walby,  "  and  I  appeal  to  every  one  present, 
if  that  was  not  an  occasion  where  I  played  the  gentleman 
and  he  played  the  fooL" 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  235 

"Not  to  use  more  gwaphic  terms,"  put  in  Captain 
Whipplestaff.  The  tide  had  set  in  against  him  there, 
however.  The  gentlemen  all  exclaimed  :  "  Oh,  Whipple- 
staff — knocked  his  hat  off — very  wrong  of  you." 

"  Can't  stand  by  you  in  that,  Whipple,"  said  Hunter. 
Captain  Walby  very  superbly  went  on  to  express  his 
pleasure  that  he  found  himself,  for  the  first  time  that 
evening,  in  congenial  society.  The  picnic  had  been  such 
a  horridly  mixed  affair.  All  sorts  of  people  there.  To 
be  sure,  it  could  not  be  very  well  avoided  ;  but  it  was 
very  unpleasant  not  to  know  who  you  would  stumble  on 
next.  It  was  bad  enough  in  the  army;  how  persons  of 
plebeian  extraction  had  crept  into  the  Southern  army,  it 
was  impossible  to  say. 

"  I  suppose  he  means  me,"  said  Captain  Whipplestaff 
meekly.  "  Peter,  give  the  cold  chickens  to  Captain  Walby, 
and  pass  him  the  wine.  Colonel,  it's  time  theah  was 
anothah  bottle  in  this  diwection !" 

Another  bottle  was  not  long  in  coming,  healths  were 
offered  and  pledged  by  all  the  company.  Quite  unex- 
pectedly, Colonel  Hunter  turned  at  las^to  me  and  asked 
for  a  toast.  No  excuse  would  be  accepted,  though  one 
was  feebly  attempted — the  glasses  were  filled  anew — I 
saw  that  every  eye  was  on  me — all  were  waiting  for  my 
voice.  It  needed  no  temerity  on  my  part  to  speak — it 
would  have  tested  my  self-command  too  powerfully  to 
check  those  words  at  my  lijos.  I  lifted  my  glass  and  dis- 
tinctly announced  "The  Stars  and  Stripes." 

There  was  a  dead  pause !   Colonel  Hunter  said  gravely. 

"  I  do  not  think  we  are  equal  to  that !  I  leave  it  to 
Berkley." 

"  I  have  no  objection  to  the  United  States  flag,  per  se," 
said  Colonel  Berkley,  more  courteous  in  tone  than  in  sen- 
timent. "  May  it  remain  in  its  proper  place,  and  be  for- 
given its  trespasses." 


236  RENSHAWE. 

"Well,  you'll  consent  to  modify  your  toast,  IMiss  Ren- 
shaw,"  said  Hunter  ;  "  stars  and  stripes,  certainly  ;  eleven 
stars  lately  subtracted  fi'om  tliii'ty-four,  leaves  twenty- 
three.     You'll  say  twenty-three  stars,  won't  you?" 

"  Thikty-foub  ! "  I  answered;  "my  toast  is  the  Stars  and 
Stripes  —  forever  may  they  wave  over  the  thirty-four 
States  of  the  American  Union !" 

Colonel  Berkley  replaced  on  the  table  the  glass  which 
he  had  taken  in  hand  while  awaiting  my  modification. 
His  example  was  so  far  followed  by  the  whole  company 
that  not  a  glass  stirred.  At  all  events,  I  had  attracted 
attention  enough  for  the  present. 

"Pray,  Miss  Eenshawe,"  said  Hunter,  in  a  shghtly 
bantering  tone,  "  are  you  an  abolitionist  ?" 

If  I  had  never  been  an  abohtionist  before,  I  could 
have  become  one  on  the  spot,  to  reply  to  that  question  : 
"I  am!  Colonel  Hunter."     Resolutely  this  was  spoken. 

"My  goodness,  IMiss  Renshawe!"  said  Walby,  "you 
needn't  get  up  all  that  style  to  accompany  such  an  an- 
nouncement.    We're  not  going  to  eat  you  for  it." 

"We'll  di'op  nohtics,  for  the  present,"  said  Hunter, 
"  and  war  into  the  bargain.  Miss  Renshawe,  your  first 
toast  won't  go  down  in  this  assembty  ;  you  may  give  us 
another.  Give  us  something  sentimental,  or  moral,  or 
social,  I  entreat." 

But  I^Iiss  Renshawe  was  not  in  a  temper  of  mind  to 
frame  anything  more  agi'eeable  just  then.  Full  of  ire  at 
the  treatment  to  which  the  first  toast  had  been  subjected, 
the  second  was  more  daring  still. 

"  Very  well, — ^here's  to  the  utter  downfall  of  the  slavehold- 
er's institution,  and  the  ruin  of  his  unrighteous  rebellion." 

I  was  not  embarrassed  by  the  fact  that  nobody  drank. 
I  had  not  expected  any  such  compHment.  There  was 
silence  for  one  moment,  then  I  heard  Captain  Davis  say 
that  the  moon  was  up,  and  that  it  was  a  very  pleasant 
evening. 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  237 

Tliis  was  sufficient  intimation  that  nothing  farther  was 
expected  from  me,  and  having  partially  relieved  my  mind, 
I  determined  to  say  no  more.  While  the  supper  lasted, 
the  gentlemen,  on  whom  my  formidable  toast  appeared 
not  to  have  made  the  slightest  impression,  entertained 
themselves  and  the  company  by  numerous  bonmots, 
anecdotes,  and  songs  of  a  convivial  nature.  The  bottle 
was  passed  and  repassed,  glasses  were  filled  again  and 
again  ;  when  the  champagne  failed,  the  Madeira  was  cir- 
culated; when  the  Madeira  gave  out,  sherry  was  called 
for.  The  gentlemen  imbibed  and  sang,  and  the  ladies 
exchanged  glances  of  apprehension. 

In  the  midst  of  a  song  of  a  dozen  stanzas,  ending  with 
the  chorus,  "  One  good  time  before  we  die,"  Sophia,  who 
sat  next  me,  intimated  her  intention  of  asking  either 
Berkley  or  Davis  to  see  us  safely  at  home  immediately. 
I  objected  on  the  ground  that  nobody  there  was  respon- 
sible, and  Sophia  answered  emphatically,  "  You  are  mis- 
taken, Berkley  took  no  more  than  two  glasses,  and  Davis 
is  sober,  I  am  confident." 

I  gave  mentally  all  the  commendation  that  such  in- 
stances of  virtue  could  inspire.  Davis  was  too  much  en- 
grossed by  the  Chardavoynes,  to  have  any  attention  to 
spare,  and  Berkley,  after  a  moment's  conference  with 
Sophia,  quitted  both  the  table  and  the  room. 

"  Now  we  will  withdraw  as  soon  as  possible,"  said  Miss 
Hervey  to  me.  Taking  advantage  of  the  first  opportuni- 
ty, while  the  gentlemen  were  standing  with  brimming 
glasses,  singing  an  ode  to  Dixie  at  the  top  of  their 
voices,  we  left  the  building.  Outside,  in  the  starHght, 
stood  a  baggage-wagon  and  two  horses.  Berkley  and 
Stileson  were  busy  with  the  harness  about  the  horses' 
heads. 

"If  these  be  specimens  of  Southern  chivalry,"  I  re- 
marked to  Sophia,  "  I  must  say  I  prefer  the  manners  at 
the  North." 


238  KENSHAWE. 

"  Hush !"  said  she,  in  warning  that  Colonel  Berkley  was 
close  at  hand.  I  had  known  it  before,  and  had  intended 
him  to  hear.  Whether  he  had  or  not,  he  let  the  observa- 
tion pass  unnoticed,  and  assisted  us,  one  after  another, 
into  the  conveyance.  The  Chardavoynes  and  Captain 
Davis  all  came  out  together.  Davis  bidding  us  a  hurried 
good-evening  went  away  on  foot ;  the  jVlisses  Charda- 
voynes joined  us  in  the  vehicle. 

"  Can't  we  go  now  ?"  asked  Sophia. 

Berkley  had  sent  for  the  cui'bs.  He  was  unwiUing  to 
drive  those  horses,  unused  as  they  were  to  wheels,  with- 
out them.  The  curbs  soon  came,  but  were  not  so  soon 
adjusted.  Before  that  task  was  complete  the  voices  of 
the  other  gentlemen  sounded  within.  No  expedition 
could  avail. 

"  You  will  drive  us  home,  won't  you?"  said  IVIrs.  True- 
man,  eai'nestly,  to  Berkley. 

"  Ceitainly,"  repHed  the  colonel. 

"  Oh,  dear !"  shrieked  Miss  Chardavoyne,  apparently 
threatened  with  hysterics.  "  They  will  kill  us  all — they 
are  dreadfully  tipsy — dreadfully " 

"  No,  they're  not,"  said  Berkley,  reassui'ingly.  No  fur- 
ther time  was  allowed  for  colloquy.  The  three  gentlemen 
had  rushed  upon  the  scene. 

"Well,  Berkley,"  said  Colonel  Hunter,  "what  the 
devil  were  you  thinking  of  to  attempt  such  a  thing  as 
this !  Don't  you  know  you  can't  drive  without  smashing 
up  my  baggage  wagon,  and  killing  my  horses?  You 
haven't  got  the  seats  or  the  buffaloes  adjusted.  Walby,  just 
help  me  spread  down  the  buffalo-robe  to  protect  the 
ladies'  feet  fi'om  the  bottom  of  the  wagon." 

This  charge  exasperated  Captain  Walby  beyond  meas- 
m-e.  "Sir,"  said  he,  drawing  himself  up  to  his  full 
height,  "  Sir,  my  gi-andmother  was  a  Livingstone,  and 
do  you  suppose  I  would  demean  myself  by  touching  a 


WHITE  CHIMKEYS.  239 

buffalo-robe?  No,  sir,  I  have  been  taught  to  discard 
that  sort  of  thing  in  favor  of  servants." 

"  Well,  Chardavoyne,"  said  Colonel  Hunter,"  if  your 
grandmother  wasn't  a  Livingstone,  you  can  help  me 
adjust  the  buffaloes.  Hold  the  horses  well,  Berkley, 
Whipplestaff 's  standing  on  the  wheel." 

"I  don't  see  how  I'm  a-g-g-going  to  get  in,"  said 
Captain  ^Tiipplestaff,  "  or  where  I'm  to  sit  when  I  have 
g-g-got  in." 

"  That's  right  Whipple,  look  out  for  number  one,"  said 
Hunter.  The  ladies  all  protested  there  was  plenty  of  room. 
Captain  Walby  took  his  seat  beside  me,  just  behind  that 
left  vacant  for  Berkley. 

"  Are  there  four  horses  ?"  somebody  asked. 

"No,  two!"  "FouiM"  The  assertion  was  hotly  dis- 
puted. It  was  not  settled  till  a  plunge  of  the  horses  pre- 
cipitated the  whole  party  backward,  and  cast  several  caps 
out  of  the  conveyance.  Vigorous  shouts  of  "  whoa  "  on 
the  part  of  the  gentlemen,  and  a  jerk  on  the  reins  from 
Berkley,  who  was  still  on  terra-firma,  restrained  the 
steeds  till  the  caps  were  picked  up,  and  after  three  cheers 
for  General  Beauregard,  our  charioteer  got  in  and  we  rode 
away. 

Sophia  leaned  forward  and  asked  Berkley  in  an  under- 
tone how  soon  we  should  be  home.  His  reply,  "  twenty 
minutes,"  was  consoling.  His  comrades  kept  up  an  in- 
cessant and  boisterous  mirth.  A  song  broke  forth  with 
the  inspiriting  refrain,  "  We'll  hang  Abe  Lincoln  on  a 
gallows  of  wood."  It  was  sung  and  resung,  interspersed 
with  shouts  and  laughter.  "We'll  hang  him!"  "Yes, 
we'll  hang  him  to-morrow."  "  Can't  to-morrow."  "  WeU, 
to-night.  Hurrah !  I  say,  Berkley,  won't  we  take 
Washington  to-morrow,  and  hang  old  Lincoln  ?" 

"  Yes,"  replied  the  colonel. 

"  You  hear  that.     He  says  yes,"  shouted  Mr.  Char  da- 


240  EENSHAWE. 

voyne.  "  TMiat's  the  use  of  waiting  till  to-morrow  ? 
We'll  hang  him  to-night.  Colonel  Berkley,  can't  you 
take  Washington  to-night?" 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  replied  the  Colonel. 

"  I've  been  pondewing,"  said  Mr.  Whipplestaff,  "  if  we 
don't  hang  him" 

"  Oh,  we  will  hang  him.  What  in  thunder  are  you 
talking  about?" 

"  You  don't  heah  what  I'm  twying  to  say.  I  say,  if  we 
don't  hang  him  on  a  gallows" 

"  Confound  you,  Whipple,"  roared  Captain  Walby,  "why 
the  deuce  do  you  keep  saying  if  we  don't  hang  him  ?  I 
tell  you  we  will  hang  him.     He's  as  good  as  hung  now  !" 

"Well,  suppose  he  is  hung,  then,  you  simpleton;  I  say, 
if  it's  not  a  gallows  of  wood,  what  kind  of  a  gallows  could 
it  be  that  we  could  suspend  him  to,  eh  ?" 

This  profound  question  seemed  to  puzzle  the  gentle- 
men Tastly.  Mr.  Chardavoyne  pulled  at  his  glove  tops, 
and  shook  his  head  vacantly.  Captain  WTiipplestaff  sug- 
gested another  song.  "  Stwike  uj^,  Walby,  and  see  if  you 
can't  pull  the  bwandy  bottle  fi'om  undah  the  seat.  I'll 
take  it  the  west  of  the  way.  Seems  to  me  the  hawses  are 
vninning  up  the  banks,  Colonel.  I've  wost  my  equiwib- 
wium  thwee  times  since  I  set  out." 

The  way  was  thus  beguiled  until  the  Chardavoynes' 
gate  was  reached,  when  the  ladies  descended.  IMi'.  Char- 
davoyne  hallooed  to  his  sisters  that  he  wasn't  coming  in 
then.  He'd  ride  up  to  jMi's.  Hervey's,  and  see  the  other 
ladies  safe  at  home. 

]\Ii'.  Davis  had  gone  up  the  lawn  with  the  young  ladies, 
and  the  baggage  wagon  rattled  on  once  more. 

"I  must  really  say,"  I  remarked  to  Sophia,  "that  if 
these  be  Southern  gentlemen  " 

Hunter  had  overheard  the  unfinished  sentence.  "  You 
raving  still  against  the  South,  Miss  Kenshawe  ?  What 
are  you  here  for  ?  Why  don't  you  go  back  to  the  North?'' 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  241 

Nothing  in  the  world  could  have  roused  my  ire  like 
this  unceremonious  suggestion.  "  I  have  a  perfect  right 
to  be  here,"  said  I;  "  a  perfect  i:ight  to  travel  on  any  high- 
way in  the  United  States." 

"We  don't  dispute  that,  madam,"  said  Walby,  "but 
this  is  not  United  States  ground  any  more.  There  are 
rights,  to  be  sure — two  sorts  of  right,  I  admit.  One,  the 
right  of  private  invitation,  which  you  have,  and  the  other, 
a  political  invitation,  which  you  haven't;  though  we  do 
allow  all  sorts  of  people  to  come  here,  and  we  tolerate 
them  here.  All  sorts  of  trash  and  parvenues  come  just 
as  they  like  " 

"And  go  away,"  said  Captain  "Whipplestaff,  "in  the 
same  mannah,  with  all  sawts  of  lies  about  us  at  the  North." 

Mrs.  Trueman  said  something  about  misrepresentations 
being  likely  to  arise  on  both  sides. 

"None  on  our  side,"  said  Hunter.  "Lord,  we  that 
have  been  to  the  North  don't  give  half  an  idea  of  it. 
We  can't.  I  didn't  dream  it  would  be  such  a  place  as  I 
found  it.     Worst  place  I  ever  was  in." 

"  Then  why,"  said  I  quickly,  "  did  you  stay  there,  if 
you  liked  it  so  Httle  ?" 

"  Didn't  stay.  I  came  away  as  quick  as  I  could.  Wo- 
men all  a  parcel  of  school-mistresses  and  hoydens.  I 
never  met  one  there  that  didn't  carry  a  loaded  pistol. 
One  lady  I  knew  personally  knocked  a  man  down  with 
a  piano  stool." 

"  Exactly  so,"  said  Walby;  "I  knew  a  lady  there  that 
kept  a  knife  on  purpose  to  stab  her  husband  when  she 
wanted  money.  Used  to  drive  him  in  a  corner,  and  prick 
him  with  it,  and  I'm  told  it's  the  usual  custom." 

"  And  it's  the  custom  theah,"  said  Whipplestaff,  "  for 
the  wadies  to  go  awound  and  call  on  the  gentlemen.  Pwac- 
tice  begins  befoah  they  are  well  out  of  pinafaws." 

"  They  have  a  day  for  that,"  added  Hunter;  "  day  after 
11 


242  RENSHAWK 

New  Year's.  New  Year's  day  is  the  gentlemen's  day,  and 
next  day  the  ladies  return  the  calls." 

These  audacious  statements  were  evidently  received 
vrithout  a  question. 

"That's  it,"  said  TSTiipplestaff.  "The  day  after  New 
Y^'eah's;  and  always,  when  a  gentleman  goes  away,  they 
follow  him  to  the  fwont  doah,  and  help  him  on  with  his 
ovah-coat." 

"  A  fi'iend  of  mine,"  said  Captain  Walby,  "  called  on  a 
lady  at  the  North,  and  she  blacked  his  boots  while  he  was 
there.     Parlor  full  of  company." 

At  this  stage  Mrs.  Trueman  spoke. 

"I  do  not  know,  gentlemen,"  she  said,  "  from  what  cir- 
cles of  Northern  society  your  observations  have  been 
taken,  but  it  is  consoling  to  think  that  there  are  many 
where  the  manners  you  describe  are  wholly  unknown." 

A  reinonstrance  like  this,  from  so  gentle  a  soui'ce,  de- 
served more  respect  than  it  received.  My  own  wi'ath  was 
gathering,  but  I  struggled  to  suppress  it. 

"  AboHtion  circles,"  Hunter  supposed,  "  up  in  Boston." 

"I  know  nothing  of  Boston,"  said  Mrs.  Trueman.  "I 
never  was  there.     I  aUuded  to  other  places." 

"Well,  they  may  have  some  refined  enjoyments,"  re- 
marked Chardavoyne;  "Blue-stocking  clubs,  nigger  re- 
vivals, and  tea-di'inkings,  Boston,  and  elsewhere.  Colonel 
Berkley  knows — he's  been  there." 

"Yes,"  cried  Sophia  Hervey;  "let  Colonel  Berkley 
speak.  "Are  you  not  candid  enough  to  acknowledge  that 
there  is  good  at  the  North?" 

"  I  do  not  deny,"  said.  Berkley,  while  every  one  paused 
to  catch  the  autocrat's  opinion,  "that  there  is  a  great 
deal  that  is  good  at  the  North,  but  it  comes  from  the  South.'* 

"  That's  true,"  said  Hunter.  "  All  theii'  clergymen  and 
statesmen  are  fi'om  the  South;  and  we  gave  them  all 
their  artists — even  their  actors." 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  243 

This  was  more  than  all  I  had  heard  claimed  for  the 
South  before.    Still  I  strove  to  possess  my  soul  in  patience. 

Sophia  appealed  to  Berkley.  "You,"  she  said,  "  shaU 
be  our  champion.  You  must  own  that  there  is  native 
talent  among  the  Northern  people.  Can  you  not  give 
them  credit  for  their  artists,  orators,  and  statesmen?" 

"  I  might  for  the  female  element,  Miss  Hervey,"  he  re- 
joined. 

The  discussion  behind  us  had  grown  more  noisy.  Wal- 
by  alluded  to  some  recital  of  a  "  tar  and  feathers  "  adven- 
ture as  "another  Northern  lie." 

"Heaven  dehverme!"  I  exclaimed,  "from  lies  that  are 
not  of  the  North !" 

Sophia  admonished  me  that  my  language  was  too 
strong. 

"  I  cannot  help  it,"  I  cried.  "  I  must  speak.  I  have 
listened  this  night  to  the  most  outrageous  calumnies,  and 
from  one  who  should  have  blushed  in  his  inmost  soul  to 
listen  to  them!  You  have  aU  heard  and  beheved  the 
story  told  you  about  the  Wilson  Zouaves,  and  I  protest 
against  it  as  an  infamous,  cowardly  falsehood." 

Berkley  uttered  a  low  laugh.  It  was  echoed  rather 
faintly,  for  the  vehemence  of  my  words  produced  an  im- 
pression. 

"  The  Northern  women  are  geniuses,"  sneered  Walby, 
"  in  every  line  of  business." 

"  What  could  you  expect  ?"  demanded  Berkley,  knock- 
ing the  ashes  from  his  cigar,  "  when  they  act,  they  are 
unnatural  and  melodramatic — when  they  paint  pictures, 
they  fill  their  canvas  with  devils  and  brimstone;  and,  of 
course,  when  they  protest  and  denounce  they  must  be 
consistent." 

Nothing  could  have  incensed  me  like  these  words.  I 
felt  the  ends  of  my  fingers  tingle  with  wrath,  and  tried  to 
speak,  but  could  not  command  myself  sufficiently. 


244  EENSHAWE. 

"My  dear  Louisa,"  said  Mi's.  Tnieman,  mildly,  "you 
will  be  misunderstood.  You  do  not  mean  to  say  that  tlie 
"Wilson  Zouaves  do  not  exist?" 

"  I  know  this,"  I  cried,  "  that  they  have  not  done  what 
those  who  rail  against  them  are  guilty  of.  There  is 
more  hope  of  the  most  degi'aded  ruffian  among  them 
than  of  men  here  who  do  not  scruple  to  engage  in 
diaboHcal  conspiracies,  involving  arson  and  assassina- 
tion." 

On  these  words,  Berkley  haK  checked  the  horses,  turned 
about,  and  looked  at  me  with  an  expression  that  fairly 
chilled  my  wrath.     Hunter  seemed  thunderstruck. 

"  Good  heaven !  jMiss  Renshawe — you  don't  dare" 

"It's  not  of  the  shghtest  consequence,"  said  Berkley. 
"  This  lady  will  dare  to  do  nothing  that  will  so  far  im- 
peril her  own  reputation." 

"  What  does  she  mean  ?"  exclaimed  Walby. 

"  Going  to  expose  the  Black  Robin  Club  to  the  author- 
ities," said  Berkley,  facetiously.  "Will  you  try  it  in 
White  Chimneys,  madam  ?" 

"W^ell,"  said  W^alby,  pompously,  "if  we  are  convinced 
of  nothing  else,  we  are  convinced,  at  least,  of  the  violence 
and  vulgarity  of  the  Northern  ladies." 

"  I  advise  you,  for  your  own  sake,  to  be  silent,"  said 
Berkley  to  me. 

"  Come,  come,"  Hunter  interposed;  "this  has  gone  too 
far  altogether.  W^e'll  di'op  the  subject.  W^e  would  be 
neighbors  and  good  Samaritans,  if  we  were  all  on  a  des- 
ert island.  If  we've  quarreled  all  the  way  up,  it's  a 
good  reason  we  should  make  up  and  be  friends  forever. 
I'm  sure  you'll  all  subscribe  to  that." 

Somebody  said  "  aye,"  but  very  feebly.  Hunter  pushed 
the  matter,  and  urged  us  to  shake  hands  all  round;  and 
as  I  had  come  to  a  better  state  of  feeling,  I  actually 
leaned  forward  to  offer  mine  to  Berkley. 


WHITE   CHIMNEyS.  245 

He  turned  away.  Hunter  reproved  him,  but  there  was 
no  reply,  and  at  that  moment  the  vehicle  stopped  at  the 
gate. 

"Colonel  Berkley,"  I  urged,  "you  provoked  what  I 
said,  but  I  retract  it.  I  have  no  idea  of  saying  anything 
about  the  Black  Robin." 

"  You'd  better  resign  the  idea  in  White  Chimneys,  I 
think,"  he  rejoined.  The  other  gentlemen  had  descended, 
and  were  aiding  the  ladies  out  of  the  wagon.  I  was 
about  rising,  but  Berkley's  hand  was  on  my  shawl.  "  Has 
this  termination  been  sufficiently  agreeable  to  suit  you  ?" 

"  Hardly,"  I  answered,  tremulously. 

"  Miss  Renshawe  next,"  said  Hunter. 
•  "You  must  wait  for  her,"  rejoined  Berkley;  and  as  I 
was  attempting  to  pass  he  stopped  me  effectually.  "Miss 
Renshawe  does  not  leave  this  till  I  have  kissed  her  as 
many  times  as  there  are  States  in  the  glorious  and  indis- 
soluble Union."  In  the  mean  time  I  had  endeavored  to 
release  myseK,  found  myself  a  close  prisoner,  and  desisted. 

"It  is  impossible,  sir,"  I  said,  with  much  emotion, 
that  you  are  guilty  of  such  coarse  levity  as  this.  Let  me 
pass,  and  I  will  endeavor  to  forget  it,  or  to  disbeheve  the 
unwelcome  evidence  of  my  senses." 

"  No  levity  about  it.  I'm  in  earnest."  It  became  ap- 
parent that  he  was  in  earnest,  as  his  threat  was  put  in 
execution.  "  Say  there  are  twenty-three  States,  Miss 
Renshawe,  and  I'll  stop  at  that,  or  if  you'll  join  the  Con- 
federacy, and  subscribe  to  eleven,  we'll  split  the  differ- 
ence. You  like  Northern  manners,  and  I  take  compas- 
sion on  you.'* 

"Your  insults,  thank  God,  recoil  on  yourself,"  I 
gasped.  Here  I  remembered  myself,  and  stopped.  I 
lifted  my  hands  and  turned  my  face  upward.  Stars,  hiUs, 
and  heavens  swam  before  my  eyes;  but  Berkley's  low  and 
heartless  laugh  rang  out  mockingly  on  my  ear. 


246  RENSHAWE. 

"Good  Lord!  you've  been  among  the  Sculptors.  That's 
beautiful !  It  needs  only  a  stake  and  a  flame  !  It's  a 
model  for  us.  You  see  when  you  denounce  the  Black 
Kobin  we  will  be  the  martjTs,  not  you." 

His  arm  relaxed.  I  caught  Hunter's  hand,  and  sprang 
to  the  ground.  Berkley  followed  with  my  hat  and  gloves, 
which  he  mockingly  offered  at  the  gate.  I  had  burst  into 
tears  as  soon  as  my  escape  was  assured;  and  as  my  sobs 
would  not  permit  me  to  speak,  turned  away  with  a  vehe- 
ment gesture,  not  to  be  misconstrued. 

"  We  are  enemies,  are  we  ?"  he  said. 

"Forever  !"  And  my  whole  soul  went  out  in  that  one 
word.  The  ladies  had  wished  the  gallant  escort  a 
stately  good-evening,  and  the  baggage-wagon  rolled  away 
once  more. 

I  had  governed  myself,  if  not  weU,  at  least  as  well  as  I 
could,  until  we  were  within  doors;  but  then  -came  a  reac- 
tion. Never  in  the  whole  course  of  my  life  had  I  yielded 
to  such  ungovernable  passion.  I  utterly  lost  my  self 
command.  What  I  said  is  quite  beyond  my  power  to 
remember.  The  other  ladies  stood  back,  amazed  and 
silent.  Pretty  soon  the  bell  rang,  and  in  came  IMr.  Davis 
with  my  gloves  and  hat,  which  Colonel  Berkley  had  sent 
with  a  message.  * 

At  the  announcement  I  astonished  the  envoy  beyond 
measure.  I  crushed  hat  and  gloves  into  the  grate  before 
his  eyes,  cried  out  to  him  to  deliver  no  message  to  me 
from  Colonel  Berkley,  if  he  ever  expected  me  to  speak  to 
him  again,  and  tore  round  the  room,  reiterating  the 
charge  till  my  voice  was  so  convulsed  with  passion  that  I 
could  say  no  more.  Davis  stood  apparently  lost  in  aston- 
ishment, and  silently  waited  tiU  the  storm  subsided.  At 
last  I  came  up,  still  unable  to  control  my  agitation,  and 
attempted  some  apology  for  my  violence,  but  it  flamed  up 
anew  at  the  first  mention  of  its  occasion,   and  I  fairly 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  247 

deafened  Davis  by  my  declarations  that  if  he  dared  to 
mention  Berkley's  name  again  I  would  never  forgive 
him. 

"My  dear  Miss  Renshawe,"  protested  Davis,  "this  is 
not  the  way  in  which  a  lady  should  behave  when  she  is 
ill-treated.     Allow  me  to  remonstrate." 

"Indeed,"  I  demanded,  "and  how  shall  I  behave?" 

"Why,  quiet  and  dignified,  of  course.  That  is  the 
proper  way  to  make  an  impression."  , 

"  I  don't  care  to  make  an  impression.  I  don*t  act  for 
effect." 

"  I  know  you  don't,  but  at  all  events  you  will  listen  to 
me.  You  are  assured  of  my  friendship.  Now,  then, 
come  and  sit  down  here  quietly,  and  listen  to  me.  You 
really  ought  to  hear  the  message.  I  can't  go  back  to  re- 
port it  as  not  delivered." 

The  calmness  manifested  by  every  one  else  had  its  effect 
on  my  nerves,  and  I  grew  sober  enough  to  listen  to 
Davis's  manifold  admonitions  and  counsels.  He  declared 
at  once  that,  in  his  opinion,  Berkley  had  acted  very  out- 
rageously, and  that  he  deserved  to  be  knocked  down  and 
severely  horsewhipped. 

Everybody  nodded  assent.  Davis  represented  that  he 
did  not  wish  to  report  to  Berkley  that  he  had  left  me  in 
a  passion.  If  I  were  thoroughly  composed,  my  determin- 
ation would  have  weight. 

"  Composed  or  not,"  said  I,  "  I  can  Hsten  to  no  apol- 
ogy whatever  from  Colonel  Berkley." 

"  My  dear  Miss  Renshawe,"  exclaimed  Davis,  "  did 
you  infei:  that  the  message  I  bring  is  of  an  apologetic 
nature  ?" 

"  If  it  is  not  I  will  hear  it,"  I  said,  instantly.  "  My 
wrath  needs  fuel  ?" 

"  Colonel  Berkley  has  sent  me  to  tell  you  to  leave  the 
Confederacy  within  twenty-four  hours." 


248  RENSHAWTE. 

"  What  is  the  penalty  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know.     That's  the  message." 

For  one  moment  I  stood  there  almost  overwhelmed  by 
this  announcement.  A  deeper  wrath  entered  my  out- 
raged soul. 

"  Then,  Captain  Davis,  you  will  take  Colonel  Berkley 
this  answer  from  me.  I  will  leave  what  you  call  South- 
em  soil  when  I  see  fit  to  leave  it,  not  before  !  Go  within 
twenty-four  hours  I  wiU  not !     Let  him  do  his  worst." 

]\Ii*s.  Trueman  uttered  some  words  expressive  of  her 
indignation  that  Berkley  should  so  conduct  himself 
toward  a  guest  in  their  family. 

"It  is  aU  very  unfortunate,"  groaned  Davis,  "but 
Miss  Renshawe  may  rely  on  my  aid  as  far  as  I  can  afford 
it.  I  can  only  give  it  by  promoting  peace  between  her 
and  Colonel  Berkley.  He  may  regard  her  in  a  different 
light  by  to-morrow." 

"]\Ir.  Davis,  it  matters  nothing  to  me  how  I  am  re- 
garded by  a  scoi-pion.  You  see  I  am  calm,  and  I  charge 
you,  as  you  are  my  friend,  to  attempt  no  reconciliation. 
I  win  thank  you  rather  to  increase  the  discord." 

"  Ah,  that's  easily  done,"  he  answered.  "I  wiU  teU  the 
Colonel  the  last  word  I  heard  from  ^liss  Eenshawe's  hps 
was  scorpion,  and  he  will  resign  himself  to  an  eternal 
enmity.     Ladies,  good-night." 


CHAPTER  XXTV. 


^E  were  aU  seated  round  the  breakfast  table  the 
[.|next  morning,  with  our  souls  wrought  up  to  a 
pitch  corresponding  to  that  of  the  previous  night, 
and  loading  the  members  of  our  escort  with  the  oppro- 
brium they  severally  deserved,  when  there  was  a  bustle 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  249 

in  the  hall,  and  suddenly,  before  they  could  be  announced, 
or  otherwise  be  heralded,  in  came  Hunter,  Walby,  Whip- 
plestaff,  Chardavoyne,  Davis,  and  last,  though  not  least. 
Colonel  Berkley. 

We  all  rose  at  once,  and  as  Berkley  stood  by  one  door, 
I  ventured  to  leave  by  the  other;  but  Colonel  Hunter 
caught  my  hands. 

"  Come,  Miss  Kenshawe,  don't  go.  Here  we  are  all  in 
sackcloth  and  ashes.  Ladies,  ladies,  give  us  a  hearing. 
Mrs.  Hervey,  will  you  please  to  exhort  these  young  ladies 
to  listen  ?" 

After  this  appeal,  quite  earnestly  made,  the  ladies  all 
paused,  and  Colonel  Hunter,  who  appeared  to  be  acting 
as  spokesman  for  the  party,  proceeded:  "Ladies,  your 
faith  in  the  decency  of  human  nature  must  have  led  you 
to  expect  us.  We  have  not  come  to  justify  ourselves; 
We  cannot;  but  we  confess  candidly  at  once  that  we  have 
behaved  very  improperly,  very  shabbily,  very  shamefully 
indeed,  and  we  offer  you  all  our  earnest  apologies,  and 
our  strong  assurances  that  nothing  of  the  kind  shall  ever 
happen  again." 

Mrs.  Hervey,  in  a  very  agitated  voice,  acknowledged 
that  the  conduct  of  the  gentlemen  toward  us  all  had  been 
so  thoughtless  and  culpable  as  to  wound  her  and  us  be- 
yond measure.  She  was  gratified  to  find  that  the  gentle- 
men regretted  it,  as  she  was  aware  that  in  the  then  un- 
settled state  of  society,  the  omission  of  this  slight  re- 
paration would  have  brought  them  no  censure. 

"I  do  not  hold,"  said  Hunter,  "that  the  unsettled 
state  of  society  releases  us  from  the  obHgation  to  be  gen- 
tlemen. My  dear  madam,  we  are  all  a  party  of  penitents, 
and  for  my  own  part  I  am  ready  to  go  on  my  knees  to  all 
the  ladies  in  this  room,  and  ask  their  pardon  for  my  bad 
behavior,  and  for  all  the  rest  of  us.  And,  ladies,  you 
will  sincerely  obUge  us  if  you  will  treat  us  as  though  soci- 
11* 


250  RENSHAWE. 

ety  was  in  its  usual  condition.  If  your  heart  prompts 
you  to  say  up  and  down,  '  Grentlemen,  you  are  all  a  par- 
cel of  villains,'  for  heaven's  sake  say  so." 

Certain  low-voiced  exclamations  from  all  the  ladies  of 
the  assembly  were  audible.  The  tide  had  fairly  set  in 
Hunter's  favor.  I  had  changed  my  intention  of  quitting 
the  room.  I  expected  that  Berkley  would  renew  person- 
ally the  charge  he  had  given  me  by  proxy,  to  depart  from 
the  insui'gent  States.  I  made  up  my  mind  to  let  him 
reveal  all  the  blackness  of  heart  which  he  possessed.  I 
stood  waiting  the  sentence,  with  my  soul  wrought  up  to 
defiance,  still  determining  to  hear  without  reply.  In  the 
meantime  aU  the  gentlemen  had  begun  to  plead  their  own 
cause,  which  they  did  with  great  fervor. 

"  This  is  quite  a  favorable  termination,"  said  Hunter, 
in  evident  glee  at  the  issue.  "  Why,  ladies,  on  the  way 
up,  we  were  in  absolute  despair  ;  didn't  dare  to  come 
without  going  after  Davis — after  Berkley — no,  Davis — 
both  of  them ;  they  are  the  only  white  sheep  in  the 
company." 

"  There  is  one  apology  due  Mrs.  Hervey,  due  all  the 
ladies,  from  me,"  said  Berkley. 

These  words  called  general  attention.  The  rebel  colo- 
nel went  on  to  make  his  apology.  He  had  sent  a  message, 
on  the  previous  evening,  to  a  lady  who  was  Mrs.  Hervey's 
guest,  to  leave  the  Confederacy.  He  desired  to  retract 
that  message,  and  to  declare  to  the  family,  and  to  the 
young  lady  herself,  that  he  could  never  sufficiently  regret 
that  it  was  sent.  That  young  lady,  and  indeed  any 
guest  of  Mrs.  Hervey,  was  entirely  welcome  to  remain  in 
the  Southern  Confederacy  as  long  as  she  chose,  and  he 
would  be  most  happy  to  have  the  honor  of  protecting 
her  in  so  doing. 

Flashes  of  my  last  night's  ire  came  over  me.  The 
apology   was  made  in  a  way  that  charmed  everybody 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  251, 

present,  and  was  accepted  by  all  but  myself.  I  stood 
with  my  heart  and  face  in  a  glow,  turned  away  from  the 
speaker  toward  Hunter,  who  was  bringing  the  scene  to  a 
close.  Many  adieux  and  "  au  revoirs  "  were  uttered. 
The  last  words  heard  were  those  of  self-accusation  ;  hopes 
that  the  ladies  would  not  remember  the  past  in  the  future  ; 
assurances  that  a  repetition  of  last  evening's  scene  should 
never  occur  ;  fears  lest  they  were  not  entirely  forgiven. 
In  the  midst  of  all  this  contrition,  Davis  came  up  to  me. 

"Berkley  would  like  to  see  you  a  moment,  Miss 
Renshawe." 

"I  must  beg  to  be  excused." 

"I  am  really  too  ambitious  of  the  office  of  peace- 
maker to  take  back  that  reply.  Miss  Renshawe." 

"That  is  absolutely  my  reply." 

Davis  di-ew  back.  They  were  all  going.  In  the  last 
farewell,  after  which  they  reluctantly  tore  themselves 
away,  it  was  obvious  that  all  unpleasantness  was  entirely 
buried.  Colonel  Hunter  shook  hands  all  around,  and 
blessed  us  most  enthusiastically  ;  and  as  soon  as  he  was 
out  of  hearing,  he  was  pronounced  by  all  our  enchanted 
party,  '  perfectly  lovely.' 

The  sense  of  perfect  loveliness  was  done  justice  to  all 
breakfast  time.     Sophia  at  last  said  to  me : 

"  I  forgot  to  tell  you  that  Berkley  was  very  desirous  to 
speak  to  you,  Louisa." 

"  And  why  did  he  not  ?"  said  I.  "  I  staid,  though  I 
should  have  left  the  room.  I  am  sure  that  gave  tacit 
consent  to  converse  with  any  one  that  was  here." 

"  No  ;  he  said  he  did  not  dare  to  speak  to  you,  espe- 
cially as  you  did  not  notice  the  general  apology  he  made 
for  his  message  to  you." 

"  Say  no  more  about  him,"  I  exclaimed  ;  "  I  am  glad  I 
saw  him  this  morning  ;  now  I  know  of  a  truth  that  I  detest 
him.  The  very  sound  of  his  voice  is  odious.  I  have 
done  with  the  whole  Southern  Confederacy  forever." 


252  RENSHAWE. 

At  ten  o'clock  there  was  more  news  from  the  town. 
The  Southern  troops  that  had  occupied  White  Chimneys 
had  all  gone,  were  in  full  retreat  from  the  place,  to  a  man. 

This  was  the  first  news.  Later  in  the  day  the  facts 
were  elucidated.  Colonel  Albee  was  still  in  White 
Chinmeys,  his  regiment  being  necessary  to  hold  the 
place,  but  Colonels  Hunter  and  Berkley  were  many  miles 
away. 


CHAPTEE  XXV. 


)ILES  away  sounded  the  steady  roll,  like  that  of 
muffled  thunder,  which  had  agitated  aU  White 
Chimneys  on  the  18th  day  of  that  July.  It  had 
been  over  long  before  anything  farther  than  a  thousand 
uncertain  and  distracting  rumors,  brought  us  any  expla- 
nation ;  but  Mr.  Hervey  soon  came  uj)  from  town  with 
the  details. 

There  had  been  a  battle  ;  that  was  certain.  The  Union 
troops  had  attacked  a  Confederate  force  at  Blackburn's 
Ford,  and  had  suffered  a  repulse.  'Mr.  Hervey  reported 
the  excitement  at  "WTiite  Chimneys  as  excessive.  Seces- 
sion flags  were  hoisted  through  the  town.  Stileson's 
was  up  all  the  while  the  battle  was  raging.  i\lr.  Hervey 
had  received  several  intimations,  on  the  way  back,  that 
made  him  think  it  best  to  remain  at  home  until  the  pubhc 
fervor  was  allayed. 

Sophia's  indignation,  long  nursed  in  silence,  found  vent 
in  some  sentences  condemnatory  of  the  Southern  rebel- 
lion, and  those  who  took  part  in  it. 

"  We  cannot  rail  against  them,"  said  Mr.  Hervey  ;  "  our 
tonofues  are  tied.  This  strife  is  fi-atricidal — suicidal! 
Those  who  fight  us  are  not  only  our  brothers,  but — our- 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  253 

selves.    We  can  only  be  silent  and  trust  in  God  for  the 

issue." 

This  observation,  breathing  the  spirit  that  actuated  the 
North  too  long  to  its  own  injury,  brought  no  answer  from 
the  group.     Mr.  Hervey  spoke  again. 

"I  met  my  brother-in-law  this  morning,  at  Stileson's, 
and  we  are  all  invited  to  his  house  to-night.  It  is  a  small 
party,  as  I  understand  it— a  military  party.  I  had  not 
the  heart  to  ask  many  questions.  I  accepted  the  invita- 
tion, and  we  must  set  out  early.  I  am  fearful  of  the 
new  horses,  and  would  like  to  cross  the  river  before 
sunset." 

From  Mr.  Hervey's  uneasy  manner,  I  felt  inclined  to 
believe  that  he  was  fearful  of  other  things  than  the  new 
horses. 

"  Go !"  cried  Sophia  ;  "how  can  you  speak  so,  brother? 
We  cannot  go ;  I  will  not.  I  am  a  loyal  woman,  and 
how  can  I,  after  this  battle,  so  decided,  go  to  the  house 
of  a  rebel,  to  meet  rebel  soldiers,  whose  hands  are  im- 
brued in  loyal  blood  ?" 

"  Sophia,"  said  Mr.  Hervey,  gravely,  "  there  are  issues 
at  stake  which  you  do  not  realize.  I  must  give  up  this 
happy  home,  and  we  will  soon  all  be  outcasts.  The  thun- 
derbolt falls  directly  here!  The  desolating  fiend  has 
chosen  this  spot  to  be  blasted  by  his  fires !  This  State  is 
to  be  the  theatre  of  war ;  these  lands  will  be  laid  waste 
by  the  fire  and  the  sword  ;  these  forests  and  plains  will 
be  a  barren  wilderness.  We  do  not  know  how  soon  the 
change  will  come.  To-night  we  go  to  this  house,  and 
to-morrow  we  may  be  glad  to  find  it  our  asylum.  My 
brother-in-law  spoke  of  the  possibiHty  this  morning  to 
me.  Again,  our  family  suffers  much  from  the  malice  and 
dislike  of  the  neighborhood.  Should  we  not  go,  our 
conduct  will  be  construed  amiss.  Only  this  day  sneering 
remarks  have  been  made  to  my  face.     If  I  am  ever  to 


254  RENSHAWE. 

escape,  with  my  family,  the  fate  which  I  dread  for  them, 
we  must  be  solicitous  to  avoid  all  censure  now." 

The  good  sense  of  these  observations  was  beyond  dis- 
pute. Sophia  yielded,  though  I  plainly  saw  how  un- 
pleasant was  the  necessity. 

"  We  will  be  forced  to  endure  much  that  we  might 
wish  to  avoid,"  continued  'Mi\  Hervey.  "My  brother 
tells  me  that  Mary  will  be  there." 

A  sudden  damp  on  these  words  pervaded  the  spirits  of 
the  party.  Sophia's  lips  were  compressed,  as  though 
with  pain. 

''  We  will  be  forced  to  be  reconciled  at  some  time," 
remarked  ]Mi's.  Heiwey  ;  "  it  may  as  well  be  now." 

"  The  cup  is  full,"  said  !Mrs.  Trueman,  with  a  sigh  of 
resignation  ;  "  I  had  hoped  never  to  see  that  woman 
again.     Sophia,  what  do  you  say  ?" 

"  I  am  quite  prepared  for  anything,"  replied  that  young 
lady.  "  Matters  can't  be  very  much  worse  than  they  are. 
If  she  bows  to  me  I  can  sui'vive  it." 

"T\liat  shall  you  do  about  it,  father?"  inquired  Mrs. 
Tmeman. 

"My  advice  would  be  to  receive  her,"  repHed  Mr. 
Hervey. 

"  Receive  her,"  repeated  ^Irs.  Hervey.  "  My  dear  hus- 
band how  can  you  speak  of  it  ?  She  is  a  very  wicked 
woman." 

"  I  know,"  rephed  'Mr.  Hervey,  "  but  as  we  cannot 
deny  the  connection,  we  may  as  well  reap  some  of  the 
advantages  of  it.  She  has  been  a  great  favorite  among 
the  rebels  at  Eichmond,  and  I  know  is  anxious  to  be  re- 
ceived by  us.  We  may  find  her  assistance  invaluable  at 
some  time  when  we  stand  in  need  of  a  fiiend 

"I  would  not  accept  such  assistance,"  said  Sophia. 

"My  dear  child,"  replied  Mi'.  Hervey,  "when  you  are 
as  old  as  I  am,  you  will  find  that  it  is  a  fooHsh  thing  to 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  255 

make  an  enemy  needlessly;  and  in  this  case  the  enmity 
would  be  powerful.  I  do  not  advise  any  hypocrisy  to- 
ward the  girl;  all  I  counsel  is  to  treat  her  civilly.  It 
vsdll  be  no  more  than  your  duty,  need  do  no  violence  to 
conscience,  and  wiU  leave  jou  nothing  to  regret." 

My  interest  was  strongly  awakened  by  this  colloquy, 
and  it  was  not  vdthout  some  hope  of  having  it  gratified 
that  I  followed  my  companions  to  the  scene  of  their 
preparations. 

"  Papa  seems  to  imagine,"  remarked  Mrs.  Trueman, 
"that  we  may  be  going  on  a  longer  journey  than  we 
anticipated  at  first." 

"  I  shall  pack  my  trunk,"  replied  Sophia.  Mr.  Laud 
may  take  us  for  a  caravan  ;  but  his  house  is  large  and 
would  hold  five  times  our  number." 

We  moved  about  for  some  time,  taking  refuge  in  the 
bustle  of  preparation  from  thoughts  of  a  more  saddening 
kind.     Carohne  first  alluded  to  the  expected  evening. 

"  The  officers,"  she  said,  "will  not  feel  much  like  com- 
ing, if  any  of  them  were  shot  in  battle  this  morn- 
ing." 

"  Those  that  are  shot  will  not  feel  like  coming,"  said 
Sophia  ;  "  but  it  will  not  hinder  the  rest.  If  aU  his 
staff  were  killed  before  his  eyes  to-day.  Colonel  Berkley 
would  go  to  a  ball  to-night  quite  as  readily." 

I  knew  of  no  grounds  on  which  I  might  dispute  this 
assertion. 

"Mrs.  Trueman  now  made  an  allusion  to  the  other 
subject  that  had  attracted  my  interest,  asking  what 
they  were  to  do  about  "  Mary." 

"  Louise  knows  nothing  about  her,"  remarked  Sophia. 
"  You  must  be  made  aware  that  the  individual  whom  we 
were  this  morning  discussing  is  my  nephew  Lionel's  wife." 

I  said  I  had  supposed  as  much. 

"  You  would  be  inclined  generally  to  look  upon  Major 


256  EENSHAWE. 

Herrey  as  a  sensible  being,  would  you  not  ?"  Sopliia 
proceeded.     I  assented,  of  course. 

"Once  upon  a  time,"  Miss  Hervey  continued,  "his 
good  sense  failed  him  at  the  \ery  crisis  where  he  stood 
most  in  need  of  it." 

"It  is  a  mesalliance  I  believe?"  said  I. 

"I  wish,"  retui-ned  Sophia,  "that  it  were  nothing 
more  than  usually  comes  under  that  name.  "^Tien  a 
man  marries  a  woman  who  is  rich,  young  and  very  beauti- 
ful, the  world  would  find  some  other  name  for  it  I  infer." 

"  I  am  then  to  conclude,"  I  remarked,  "  that  marriage 
is  a  lottery  in  which  Major  Hervey  drew  a  blank." 

"  He  held  an  exceedingly  bad  ticket,"  said  Sophia  ; 
"  and  I  will  leave  it  to  you,  whether  I  ought  to  be  civil 
to  a  woman  whom  I  beheve  capable  of  committing  any 
Clime,  for  the  sake  of  propitiating  all  Rebeldom  ?" 

"  Certainly  not,  if  you  think  her  so  very  wicked,"  said 
I.     "  Does  your  brother  know  her  character  ?" 

"  Oh,  my  brother  looks  on  these  things  in  a  different 
light;  he's  a  man,  and  men  always  have  more  charity  to- 
ward oui'  sex  than  we  have  for  each  other.  Beside  this, 
woman  is  very  fascinating.  She  has  charmed  him  ; 
also  ^Ii'.  Laud.  He  is  perfectly  bewitched.  Every  man 
who  knows  her  thinks  the  same." 

"  I  suppose  you  counseled  Major  Hervey  against  such 
a  marriage  ?" 

"  No,  we  didn't.  Before  we  knew  anything  about  it, 
hardly  who  she  was,  they  were  married.  She  was  the 
adoi^ted  daughter  of  George  Berkley's  uncle,  iVIr.  John 
Brandegee.  She  was  under  General  Berkley's  guardian- 
ship for  a  while,  and  created  a  great  commotion  there. 
;Mi's.  Berkley  said  Dan  was  absolutely  in  love  with  her; 
and  he  was  a  man  as  Httle  likely  to  fall  in  love  as  any  one 
I  ever  knew.  Then  Colonel  Berkley  was  engaged  to  her 
until  she  behaved  in  such  a  horrible  manner  that  they 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  257 

were  obliged  to  dissolve  the  engagement,  and  send  her 
away  from  the  house.  We  know  all  the  circumstances, 
but  we  are  not  at  liberty  to  disclose  them." 

At  one  clause  in  the  revelation,  my  preparations  had 
come  to  a  full  stop. 

.  "  Miss  Brandegee !"  I  repeated  ;  "  and  once  engaged 
to  Colonel  Berkley !  I  heard  of  her  from  Mrs.  Ostrander, 
from  several  persons.  Is  that  the  lady  whom  your 
nephew  married  ?" 

"That's  the  lady,"  Sophia  answered,  "whom  my 
brother  was  duped  into  marrying.  Mrs.  Ostrander  takes 
her  part,  and  has  probably  told  you  that  the  Berkleys 
were  in  the  wrong,  but  I  know  they  could  not  have  acted 
othei-wise.  Mrs.  Ostrander  is  one  of  the  few  whom 
Mary  has  been  able  to  deceive  ;  and  as  the  Berkleys 
were  too  honorable  to  say  anything  about  her,  she 
usually  stands  well  with  her  new  acquaintances  till  she 
gets  found  out.  Lionel  is  probably  sorry  enough  that 
he  married  her,  though  he  will  not  acknowledge  it." 

"  She  is  beautiful,  you  say  ?" 

"Very;  did  you  ever  see  Hildebrandt's  Desdemona, 
that  was  on  exhibition  at  the  Dusseldorf  Gallery  in  New 
York  for  so  long?  Mrs.  Lionel  Hervey  is  the  living 
reproduction  of  that  picture." 

The  conversation  here  was  dropped,  and  we  were  too 
busy  with  the  melancholy  task  of  preparation  to  resume  it. 


CHAPTER  XXYI. 


Y  eight   o'clock   that  evening,  we  rode  into  the 
village  known  as  Luney's  Lock,  and  stopped  be- 
fore the  most  pretentious  and  brilliantly  Hghted 
mansion  in  the  principal  street.     The  event  of  the  battle  at 


258  RENSK\WE. 

Blackbm-n's  Ford  had  evidently  not  changed  the  plan 
of  Mr.  Laud's  hospitality,  however  it  had  agitated  his 
household. 

"  You  are  to  be  hostess  to-night,"  said  he  to  ^Ii-s. 
Hervey,  as  he  met  us  at  the  gate.  "  I  have  been  watch- 
ing for  you  an  hour." 

"We  were  ushered  into  the  brilHantly  lighted  hall,  and 
up  the  broad  staircase,  by  a  negro  in  a  footman's  livery; 
and  hastened  to  put  the  finishing  touches  to  our  respec- 
tive costumes,  before  appearing  in  the  parlors.  The 
house  was  furnished  with  elegance  which  its  exterior 
had  scarcely  promised.  The  appui'tenances  of  the  rooms, 
designed  for  use,  were  of  elaborate  workmanship;  while 
the  merely  ornamental  decorations  were  of  value,  be- 
tokening great  wealth  on  the  part  of  the  owner.  But 
I  could  not  bestow  more  than  a  passing  consideration  on 
any  embellishments  of  the  sort.  There  was  a  gi'eat 
weight  on  my  mind,  which  I  hoped  after  that  night  to  be 
relieved  of.  Captain  Davis's  allusions  on  the  evening 
at  Honey  Island,  made  me  determine  that  more  of  an 
explanation  would  have  been  accorded  me,  had  an 
opportunity  offered,  and  I  intended,  if  he  should  be  at 
'Mr.  Laud's  this  night,  the  opportunity  should  be  taken. 
My  chief  dread  was  that  of  meeting  Colonel  Berkley. 
My  mind  was  wrought  up  to  that  pitch,  that  I  desired 
neither  to  see  nor  speak  to  him  again;  and  though  I  knew 
it  would  be  quite  possible  to  avoid  him  during  the  even- 
ing, still  I  was  fain  to  avert  the  prospect  of  the  agitation 
that  his  appearance  would  cause,  by  reflecting  that  ]Mr. 
Laud  did  not  know  him,  and  it  was  scarcely  possible 
that  he  had  been  invited. 

Li  the  hbraiy,  a  small  room  on  the  first  floor,  where  I 
stopped  to  await  the  rest  of  the  party,  a  portrait  poised 
on  a  table  against  the  walls,  without  fi'ame,  and  evidently 
but  just  finished,  attracted  my  attention.     My  gaze  was 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  259 

riveted,  when  I  perceived  that  the  face  was  one  of  touch- 
ing beauty.  It  was  the  face  of  a  very  young  female,  and 
the  strong  likeness  it  bore  to  the  Desdemona  in  Hilde- 
brandt's  master-piece,  would  have  led  me  to  think  it  a  copy 
of  the  same,  had  not  Sophia's  remark  about  the  hkeness, 
raised  an  immediate  suspicion  of  the  identity.  It  was  a 
fallacy,  I  thought,  that  the  face  was  the  index  of  the 
soul;  for  that  expression  did  not  betray  the  demoness. 

As  the  minutia  of  the  party  dress  had  been  attended 
to  before  we  set  out,  it  was  not  long  before  the  rest  of  the 
party  descended,  and  I  was  called  away  from  my  contem- 
plation to  follow  them  to  the  drawing-rooms,  where  the 
guests  were  already  beginning  to  assemble. 

Eank  secession  breathed  in  all  the  air  around — even 
from  the  leaves  of  the  plants  outside  the  windows  of  the 
hall.  The  glass  doors  which  opened  all  around  the 
house,  admitted  the  refreshing  air  of  the  summer  evening, 
which  circulated  as  freely  as  under  the  trees  and  shrub- 
bery, forming  a  dehghtful  shade  about  the  house.  A  red 
flag  stretched  across  the  chimney-piece,  engraven  on 
which,  in  large  letters,  were  the  words,  "  Battle  of  Centre- 
ville,  July  18th,  1861.  Success  to  our  arms.'*  In  the 
farther  saloon  was  the  figure  of  Justice,  painted  on  a 
shield;  over  her  head,  "God  for  the  right,"  shone  out  in 
sparkling  characters.  In  one  hand  she  held  a  drawn 
sword,  and  from  the  other  floated  the  flaming  capitals 
"  C.  S.  A."  A  company,  in  which  I  looked  in  vain  for  a 
familiar  face,  was  assembled  in  the  parlors,  but  apart 
from  the  flaunting  badges  that  checkered  the  throng, 
and  the  rebel  insignia  displayed  on  the  walls,  there  was 
something  in  the  ill-dissembled  exultation  which  shone 
on  every  face,  that  would  have  revealed  to  me  how  the 
battle  had  affected  it.  I  saw  it  with  a  shrinking  of 
the  soul  which  I  did  not  attempt  to  mask  on  my  features, 
and  after  my  introduction  to  Mr.  Laud,  drew  back  with 


260  RENSHAWE. 

the  single  wish  of  remaining  as  unobserved  and  as  un- 
daunted as  possible. 

There  I  was  alone  in  the  crowd.  I  gazed  on  the 
moving  figures,  the  waving  fans,  Hstened  to  the  gay- 
voices,  recalled  the  oft-applauded  pecuharities  of  the 
Southern  manner,  which  was  all  abandon  and  all  good 
breeding,  and  asked  myself,  in  witnessing  this  tacit  exul- 
tation over  a  temporary  triumph,  whether  the  >attle 
of  CentreviUe  had  really  decided  the  fate  of  the  nation. 
It  seemed  so  there.  A  sense  that  was  worse  than  that 
of  mere  isolation  oppressed  me.  The  Herveys  were  used 
to  it,  seemed  in  a  measure  to  have  fallen  in  with  it;  they 
appeared  to  have  effected  a  sort  of  compromise,  but  to 
me  there  was  no  such  feehng — they  were  all  foes. 

I  had  di-awn  back  behind  Mrs.  Hervey's  chair,  and  she 
was  talking  to  her  brother  about  the  officers.  'Mx.  Laud 
said  he  did  not  know  who  was  coming.  He  had  given 
Colonel  Hunter  carte-blanche  to  ask  all  he  could  muster, 
but  that  being  several  days  before  the  battle,  perhaps 
Colonel  Hunter  had  forgotten  all  about  it.  Lionel  had 
gone  to  the  camp  that  afternoon,  however,  and  had 
promised  to  refi'esh  his  superior  officer's  memory. 

But  neither  Colonel  Hunter  nor  the  officers  to  whom 
he  had  seen  fit  to  extend  ^h\  Laud's  invitation,  were  so 
obHvious.  Before  ten  o'clock,  the  rooms  were  ahve  with 
steel  and  buttons,  and  I  was  looking  among  their  num- 
bers for  famihar  faces,  when  I  was  diverted  from  the 
scrutiny  by  the  sight  of  a  young  lady,  who  looked  in  at 
the  hall  door.  The  air  and  manner  of  this  female,  were 
in  themselves  sufficient  to  rivet  my  gaze,  apaii:  from  the 
recognition  that  revealed  her  as  the  original  of  the  por- 
trait, which  I  had  seen  in  the  library.  The  figui-e  was 
one  of  unrivaled  elegance,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  it  was 
rather  under  the  medium  height,  and  the  large  dark  eyes, 
so  fuU  of  soul,  were  the  ruling  feature  of  a  beautifully 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  261 

moulded  face;  while  the  self-possession  and  grace  of  the 
young  lady's  air,  were  strangely  contradicted  by  the 
youth  and  freshness  of  her  countenance. 

After  a  moment's  scrutiny  of  the  apartment  she  came 
just  inside  the  door,  swept  after  her  the  train  of  a  dress 
elaborate  and  very  long,  and  resting  one  gracefully 
rounded  arm,  banded  with  a  string  of  jewelry,  against 
the  piano,  turned  her  girlish  face  toward  a  group  of 
officers  with  a  bow  of  salutation,  which  brought  one  of 
their  party  at  once  to  her  side. 

It  was  Captain  Davis.  He  had  actually  come,  and  not 
knowing  how  soon  he  might  go,  and  eager  not  to  lose  my 
opportunity  of  speaking  to  him,  I  crossed  the  room  until 
I  was  fio  near  the  hall  door  as  to  render  it  a  foregone 
conclusion  that  he  should  see  me  next.  Almost  at  the 
same  time  Mr.  Laud  came  up  to  shake  hands  with  Davis, 
and  I  heard  him  ask  where  Colonel  Berkley  was  to-night. 
A  sudden  displeased  contraction  appeared  on  the  face  of 
the  young  lady;  her  large  full  eyes  flashed  up  as  though 
with  pain,  and  her  lips  were  momentarily  compressed; 
but  the  next  moment  all  was  serene  as  ever.  Captain 
Davis  informed  Mr.  Laud  that  Colonel  Berkley  and  Col- 
onel Hunter,  both,  were  exceedingly  busy — it  would  be 
impossible  for  them  to  come  very  early,  and  possibly  they 
might  not  come  at  all .  As  soon  as  Mr.  Laud  had  gone 
on,  Captain  Davis  fortunately  saw  Miss  Kenshawe. 

I  did  my  best  immediately  to  promote  Captain  Davis's 
entertainment,  and  prevent  his  wandering  away;  my 
great  scheme  for  the  evening  being  to  elucidate  his 
knowledge  of  Mr.  Lecompton's  mysterious  letter.  Ke- 
marks  were  made  on  the  trees,  on  the  music,  on  the  stat- 
uary, on  the  wind;  on  everything  in  short,  but  the  battle, 
which  we  both  avoided  by  tacit  consent;  and  on  the  one 
subject  which  I  longed  but  did  not  know  how  to  approach. 

Major  Hervey  had  approached  our  group,  but  did  not 


262  RENSHAWE. 

interrupt  our  t6te-a-tete,  only  to  address  in  a  half  whis- 
per the  lady  I  had  so  admired;  it  was  received  by  her 
with  eyes  fixed  on  yacancy,  and  a  negligent  toss  of  the 
fan  against  the  piano-case;  a  careless  monosyllable  was 
given  in  answer  to  his  question;  then  she  took  his  arm, 
and  he  led  her  across  the  room,  and  introduced  her  to 
Mrs.  Heiwey. 

"  ^Mio  is  that  young  lady  you  were  just  conversing 
with,  Captain  Davis  ?"  I  asked. 

"IMi's.  Lionel  Hervey." 

I  had  thought  as  much,  and  the  suspicion  would  have 
been  sufficiently  confirmed  by  the  dignified  yet  very 
conscious  air  with  which  her  mother-in-law  received  her. 
She  did  not  linger  long  in  that  vicinity;  just  as  I  was 
pondering  how  to  begin  the  subject  of  Lecompton's 
letter,  Mrs  Hervey  came  back,  and  Davis  had  gone  off 
with  her. 

"  How  are  you  charmed  ?"  asked  Sophia,  in  a  low  tone. 

"With  Mrs.  Lionel  Hervey?  I  admire  her  appear- 
ance much." 

"  I  supj)posed  you  would.  Her  appearance  is  prepos- 
sessing ,  I  wonder  what  Mr.  Laud  was  thinking  of,  to 
ask  Colonel  Berkley.  I  should  think  his  meeting  with 
her  would  be  veiy  unpleasant." 

"  He  may  not  come." 

"  Hush !" 

A  crowd  of  officers  were  just  passing  through  the  haU 
door.  At  Sophia's  warning  intimation,  as  to  who  was 
among  them,  my  pulse  thrilled  with  a  new  agitation. 
How  was  I  to  behave  ?  what  should  I  do  ?  In  order  to 
gain  time  I  looked  persistently  over  the  piano  music, 
and  seriously  contemplated  a  withdrawal  fi'om  the  room. 
In  the  mean  time,  the  latest  arrived  deputation  had 
moved  across  the  floor  to  Mr.  Laud,  and  I  distinctly 
heard  that  gentleman  say: 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS  263 

Colonel  Berkley,  I  am  very  happy  to  see  you,  sir. 
Colonel  Hunter,  you  do  us  honor — glad  to  see  you  all, 
gentlemen,  and  to  exchange  mutual  congratulations  on 
the  late  successful  defence  of  our  flag.  My  heart  has 
been  with  you." 

"  His  heart  seems  to  be  with  them  still,  judging  from 
his  manner  of  shaking  hands,"  said  Sophia  in  a  low  tone 
to  me.  "  All  in  new  coats,  or  somebody  has  been  rub- 
bing up  the  trimmings — very  resplendent.  Why  do  you 
not  look  ?     Alexander  has  his  shoulder  turned." 

Being  quite  decided  by  this  time,  I  looked  around 
leisurely.  The  officers,  having  finished  their  greetings, 
passed  on.  Berkley  retained  his  place  beside  Mr.  Laud 
and  Mrs.  Trueman.  Some  compliment  was  paid  by  the 
colonel  to  the  loyalty  of  his  host,  and  looking  up  at  the 
Confederate  flag,  Berkley  raised  his  hand  to  his  forehead 
and  gave  it  a  slight  upward  motion,  as  though  conveying 
his  salutation  to  the  colors. 

"  That's  graceful ! "  pronounced  Sophia. 

"  I  have  seen  it  better  done  in  a  circus,"  I  answered  ; 
"  it's  precisely  the  flourish  a  circus-rider  makes  when  he 
has  accompHshed  some  feat  that  he  regards  as  peculiarly 
striking." 

Jnst  then  Captain  Davis  came  in  from  the  adjoining 
room  with  Mrs.  Hervey,  and  they  walked  on  quite  near 
the  spot  where  I  was  standing.  Mrs.  Trueman  looked  up; 
a  slight  bow  was  exchanged  with  her  sisfcer-in-law.  Berk- 
ley turned  his  head,  and  he  and  Mrs.  Lionel  Hervey  saw 
each  other  at  the  same  instant. 

Berkley  stood  like  one  transfixed  ;  but  his  color  had 
not  varied  a  shade,  while  in  spite  of  herself,  Mrs.  Her- 
vey's  face  was  crimsoned  with  a  flush  that  forsook  it  the 
next  instant  as  tumultuously.  She  seemed  to  hesitate, 
while  his  calm,  expectant  look  was  fastened  on  her  fea- 
tures ;  then  she  bent  her  head  coldly.  Berkley  replied 
by  a  deferential  bow,  and  turned  once  more  away. 


264  RENSHAWE. 

By  the  time  Mrs.  Hervey  and  Davis  had  come  up,  I  saw 
that  her  agitation  at  sight  of  her  former  lover  had  not 
entii'ely  subsided.  I  was  thinking  again  of  the  Lecomp- 
ton  letter,  and  when  Mrs.  Hervey  had  seated  herself  by 
Soi)hia,  I  remarked  to  Captain  Davis  that  the  evening 
was  vei-y  warm,  and  that,  no  doubt,  it  was  much  cooler 
in  the  shrubbery,  where  several  of  the  guests  were  al- 
ready promenading.  Davis  immediately  gave  me  his  arm 
to  the  shrubbery,  and  we  were  soon  strolling  up  and 
down  the  beaten  path  outside,  and  imder  very  favorable 
circumstances  for  conversation,  those  that  passed  us  on 
the  grounds  catching  only  a  few  disconnected  words.  I 
began,  as  usual,  in  a  very  roundabout  way,  catechised 
Captain  Davis  about  camp-life,  and  about  the  customs  of 
Louisiana,  and  about  the  laws  of  civihzed  warfare.  All 
these  topics  being  thoroughly  discussed,  I  went  from  civi- 
lized to  uncivihzed  warfare,  and  from  uncivilized  warfare 
to  'Mr.  Lecompton.  Just  as  I  reached  that  point,  every- 
body was  called  in  to  supper. 

Having  progressed  so  far,  I  thought  it  would  be  too 
bad  to  give  wp  at  that  point ;  consequently,  I  intimated 
to  my  companion  that  an  important  subject  was  at  hand, 
which  I  was  soiTy  to  have  interrupted.  Mr.  Davis  offered 
to  sacrifice  the  supper  ;  but  being  quite  hungiy  myself, 
I  did  not  see  fit  to  entertain  the  proposition,  and  he 
promised  to  discuss  it  fully  in  the  coui'se  of  the  next 
hour. 

Duiing  supper  I  managed  to  be  next  'Mrs.  Lionel  Her- 
vey, and  we  held  a  conversation  of  which  I  do  not  remem- 
ber a  word,  and  of  which  she  probably  absorbed  quite  as 
Uttle,  as  her  looks  were  rather  disturbed.  Just  as  nearly 
everybody  was  strolling  back  to  the  parlors  and  grounds, 
and  I  was  thinking  of  Captain  Davis  again,  !Mrs.  Hervey, 
who  stood  close  by  me  at  the  door,  asked  if  I  knew  Colo- 
nel Berkley. 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS. 


265 


"  Yes,  that  is  to  say  no,"  I  answered  a  little  hastily, 
but  taking  care  to  make  my  negative  very  emphatic.  The 
next  instant  I  saw  Berkley  close  at  hand.  He  had 
stopped,  but,  I  perceived,  not  to  speak  to  me;  it  was  to 
Mrs.  Hervey. 

"  It  is  a  very  long  time  since  I  have  had  the  pleasure 
of  meeting  you,"  said  she,  lifting  her  great,  grave  eyes  to 
his  face. 

"  So  long,  that  I  hardly  expected  to  be  recognized  by 

you,"  said  Berkley. 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  replied  Mrs.  Hervey.  She  was  a  little 
nervous  but  strove  hard  to  command  herself.  "  I  should 
recognize  you  always,  I  am  sui'e.  I  am  not  the  author  of 
the  opinion  that  you  are  not  very  easily  forgotten,  Colo- 
nel Berkley." 

Preferring  to  take  this  statement  in  its  most  compli- 
mentary sense,  Berkley  bowed  gravely,  and  remarked 
that  he  had  heard  of  Mrs.  Hervey  several  times  during 
the  last  few  months  ;  indeed,  he  believed  he  had  several 
times  been  on  the  point  of  meeting  her  again,  but  had 
never  had  that  happiness  till  to-night.  The  conversation 
appeared  to  be  nearly  exhausted  on  Mi's.  Hervey's  part ; 
for  she  sighed  without  reply,  and  Berkley  was  already 
looking  away,  when  Captain  Whipplestaff  rushed  up 
tumultuously. 

"  There  are  two  pwaces  unfilled  in  the  saloon.  Col- 
onel ;  they've  sent  me  to  beg  you  to  dance— youah  not 
engaged  for  aftah  suppah— won't  you  dance  with  Mrs. 
Hervey?" 

Both  Mrs.  Hervey  and  Berkley  looked  at  Captain 
Whipplestaff  as  though  at  a  loss  what  to  do.  Extrication 
from  the  dilemma  was  easy  enough,  had  Mrs.  Hervey 
chosen  it ;  but  when  Berkley's  arm  was  offered,  she  took 
it  after  a  faltering  attempt  at  an  excuse,  and  they  walked 
away.  As  I  had  been  talking  to  my  right-hand  neighbor 
12 


266  RENSHAWE. 

with  my  back  turned  on  the  scene  as  soon  as  Berkley 
drew  near,  he  had  not  seen  me  so  far  face  to  face,  and 
I  was  just  thinking  again  of  Lecompton,  when  Colonel 
Hunter  rushed  up. 

"Who  is  disengaged?  Oh,  Miss  Renshawe — one  last 
place — I  must  have  a  partner — will  you  do  me  the  favor?" 

I  began  to  say  that  Mr.  Davis 

"Davis,  he's  dancing — come,  they  are  all  waiting  for 
us. 

I  immediately  consented,  and  we  walked  into  the  third 
room,  were  the  last  set  was  formed,  and  took  our  places. 
It  so  happened  that  we  were  vis  a  vis  to  Mrs.  Hervey  and 
Berkley.  I  felt  that  that  gentleman's  eyes  were  upon  me, 
expecting  a  recognition  ;  but  I  was  resolute — it  did  not 
come.  Throughout  that  dance  I  was  quite  exultant,  and 
walked  thi'ough  its  mazes,  ignoring  the  fact  that  ^Ixs.  Her- 
vey had  a  partner,  as  far  as  possible.  I  moved  through 
all  the  figures  without  touching  Ids  hand,  which  he  did 
not  offer  very  often,  when  my  line  of  conduct  became 
obvious.  I  remembered,  in  the  Childi'en  of  the  Abbey, 
similar  conduct  on  the  part  of  Lord  Mortimer  toward  the 
heroine  had  been  pronounced  at  oui*  reading  cii'cle,  at 
Renshawe,  a  gi-eat  piece  of  rudeness;  but,  considering  all 
the  cu'cumstances,  I  held  myself  more  than  justified  on 
the  present  occasion. 

"  I  don't  see  how  in  the  world  Berkley  manages  not  to 
step  on  ]\Ii's.  Hervey's  dress,"  said  Colonel  Hunter  to  me 
in  the  progress  of  the  dance  ;  "  upon  my  soul,  it's  a  pen- 
ance to  dance  with  such  preposterously  long-skirted  wo- 
^men.  I  never  dance  the  second  time  with  a  woman  who 
wears  a  trail — ^by  Jove !  her  skirt  measures  a  full  yard  on 
the  floor.  She  nearly  upset  all  four  of  you  ladies  iq  the 
whirlwind  figure  just  now !" 

Colonel  Hunter's  indignation  against  the  trait  increased 
all  thi'ough  the  dance.     "Almost  thrown  by  it!"  he  an- 


WHITE    CHIMNEYS.  267 

nounced  ;  "by  Jove!  what  under  the  heavens  does  a 
woman  expect  to  gain  by  setting  a  trap  for  a  man's  heels? 
I  get  caught  sometimes — see  ladies  sitting  down  and  ask 
them  to  dance,  and  then  have  to  be  put  on  my  dexterity 
all  through  the  performance  ;  and  if  you  do  happen  to 
step  on  them — my  conscience,  what  thundering  black 
looks  they  do  punish  you  with !'' 

I  was  relieved  when  the  dance  came  to  a  close ;  of 
course  I  joined  the  group  to  which  Davis  belonged  imme- 
diately. Captain  Walby,  who  had  been  strutting  about 
with  his  most  superciHous  air,  had  only  waited  for  my 
presence,  to  make  another  humiliating  reflection. 

"  This  is  not  one  of  your  Chardavoyne  and  Timberlake 
hashes,"  he  said.    "  There  really  appear  to  be  people  here." 

"  The  Chardavoynes  and  Timberlakes  are  people,"  re- 
phed  Sophia. 

"  They  do  very  well  for  White  Chimneys,  but  this  is  a 
place  of  more  consideration.  A  man  who  entertains  here 
is  not  driven  to  invite  all  sorts  of  cattle.  He  has  real 
aristocracy  at  his  command.  Miss  Renshawe,  will  you 
dance  with  me  ?" 

I  was  quite  amazed  at  the  invitation,  but  decHned 
dancing  during  that  set,  and  when  I  took  the  vacated 
seat  by  the  window,  Davis  joined  me.  I  had  decided 
that  the  parlor  was  the  best  place  for  the  conversation  I 
desired  to  hold,  as  the  noise  was  quite  sufficient  to  drown 
our  voices.  I  reminded  Davis  that  we  had  been  talking 
about  Mr.  Lecompton,  and  I  asked  shortly  whether  he 
could  tell  me  an}H:hing  of  the  reason  that  had  prompted 
that  gentleman's  prediction,  by  which  he  (Davis)  had 
fastened  the  ownership  of  the  lost  pocket-book  on  me. 

Mr.  Davis  was  in  a  very  communicative  temper,  a  dis- 
position with  which  he  contended  at  first,  as  he  could 
only  be  brought  to  acknowledge  that  he  knew  something 
about  it- 


268  RENSHAWE. 

The  first  mention  of  the  Black  Robin  unlocked  his 
tongue.  That  organization  being,  as  he  assured  me,  aU 
broken  up,  and  its  disciples  dispersed,  Davis  felt  no  hesi- 
tation in  talking  about  it.  He  told  me  in  full  the  circum- 
stances that  had  led  him  to  join  that  society,  eulogized 
its  harmless  character,  and  enlarged  on  the  service  it  had 
done  the  world.  To  all  this  I  listened  patiently,  till 
Davis  declared  that  he  was  utterly  overcome  to  fijid  that 
a  lady  among  his  esteemed  and  valued  acquaintances  was 
in  fuU  knowledge  of  its  most  indefensible  schemes. 

The  announcement  had  first  been  made  by  Berkley  to 
a  few  counselors,  among  whom  was  Governor  Chives. 
This  course  of  Berkley's  Davis  fully  defended.  His  oath 
obliged  him  to  inform  the  Club  when  it  was  endangered. 
Chives  had  chosen  Lecompton  to  look  after  ]Miss  Ren- 
shawe,  and  to  report  her  proceedings  for  the  next  few 
days. 

Davis  had  known  nothing  of  aU  these  transactions  until 
one  evening,  when,  to  his  utter  amazement,  Governor 
Chives  had  decreed  that  Louisa  Renshawe  was  to  be  put 
out  of  the  way. 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  that — my  Hfe  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Yes,  ]\Iiss  Renshawe,  your  hfe !  nothing  less.  You 
have  too  much  good  sense,  I  trust,  to  lay  that  up  against 
the  Governor." 

"  Oh,  certainly,"  I  answered,  "  a  httle  thuig  like  that 
can  be  easily  pardoned.  But  go  on.  What  induced  the 
Governor  to  alter  that  decision  ?" 

"  TVell,  we  were  all  quite  shocked,  because  we  knew 
you  so  well,  yet  no  one  ventiu'ed  to  remonstrate  but 
Berkley.  He  pleaded  very  earnestly  for  you,  IMiss  Ren- 
shawe." 

"  Probably  he  felt  some  compunctions  for  having  been 
instrumental  in  leading  me  into  such  danger." 

Davis  smiled.     "  I  think  not,  Miss  Renshawe.     Berkley 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  269 

is  not  given  to  such  compunctions.  I  cannot  account 
for  his  course.  I  know  I  was  very  much  surprised  to 
find  that  he  did  espouse  your  cause  so  earnestly.  He 
thought  the  sentence  was  rather  too  severe." 

It  was  not  unnatural  that  a  transient  emotion  of  grat- 
itude should  cross  my  heart  at  these  words,  but  'I  steeled 
myself  against  it. 

"Mr.  Lecompton  then  produced  one  of  your  letters 
which  he  had  intercepted  that  day,  as  it  bore  a  Southern 
postmark." 

A  cold  chill  ran  over  me.  "  A  letter  from  my  mother, 
]VIr.  Davis?" 

Davis  owned  that  it  was.  This  letter  Lecompton  offered 
to  the  company,  not  that  it  had  any  connection  with  the 
charges  against  Miss  Renshawe,  but  rather  to  throw 
light  on  her  mind  and  motives. 

"  And  was  that  unimportant  epistle  handed  about  very 
extensively?"  I  asked. 

"  It  was  submitted  to  three  or  four  of  us,"  said  Davis, 
"  and  Mr.  Lecompton  asked  Governor  Chives  whether 
Miss  Eenshawe's  regard  for  one  of  our  party  might  not 
mitigate  the  severity  of  her  sentence." 

"  Was  there  any  speculation  as  to  which  of  your  party 
it  was  ?" 

"Oh,  certainly.  We  were  all  of  opinion  that  it  was 
Berkley.  None  of  us  knew  you  so  very  well,  Miss  Een- 
shawe,  and  he  had  met  you  rather  more  frequently.  He 
did  not  believe  it  at  first,  but  after  reading  the  letter 
seemed  more  inclined  to  that  opinion  himself,  and  this 
circumstance  he  immediately  turned  to  your  advantage." 

"  How  was  that  ?" 

"  He  at  once  offered  to  the  Governor  to  be  responsible 
for  all  your  actions,  and  answered  for  you  that  you  in- 
tended no  one  there  any  harm.  Governor  Chives  con- 
sented finally  to  spare  your  life,  and  to  acce^Dt  the  respon- 
16* 


270  RENSHAWK 

sibility,  on  one  condition.  That  was,  that  Berkley  should 
offer  you  all  the  attention  in  his  power,  and  that  as  your 
heart  had  been  given  to  him,  which  none  of  us  doubted, 
he  should  rivet  that  infatuation  as  well  as  he  was 
able." 

My  heart  swelled  high  with  indignation.  "  And  did 
IVIr.  Berkley  accejDt  the  condition  ?" 

"He  did.  Miss  Renshawe.  I  assure  you,  your  life 
could  have  been  guaranteed  on  no  other  terms.  Mr.  Le- 
compton  launched  out  into  a  flowery  remonstrance.  He 
called  Berkley  heartless  and  criminal,  and  said  that  to  a 
giii  like  ]\Iiss  Renshawe,  death  would  be  far  preferable  to 
such  a  captivity." 

"  And  did  that  make  no  impression  on  IVIr  Berkley  ?" 

"  Not  the  least.  His  mind  was  made  up,  and  he  hs- 
tened  quite  unaffected.  Told  Lecompton  to  seal  up  the 
letter,  and  send  it  to  you,  and  promised  the  Governor  to 
follow  his  counsel,  and  to  take  care  of  IMiss  Renshawe's 
knowledge  of  the  Club.  One  thing  was  certain,  the  Gov- 
ernor gained  an  impression  that  IMiss  Renshawe  was  quite 
an  uncommon  girl." 

"  He  must  have  seen  that,"  I  answered,  bitterly,  "  but 
now  tell  me  how  you  identify  me  with  the  subject  of  ^Mi'. 
Lecompton's  prophecy." 

"Instantly.  You  see  it  was  just  like  Lecompton,  with 
his  opinion  of  Berkley's  fascinations,  to  warn  you  against 
theii'  danger." 

ISIr.  Lecompton  seems  to  have  been  the  best  friend  I 
had  in  the  honorable  category." 

"  I  can't  say  that  I  agree  with  you  there.  Berkley  staid 
in  New  York  some  time  after  we  had^  left,  until  the  Black 
Robin  agitation  had  faiiiy  cooled,  only  to  protect  you 
from  danger — staid  after  he  knew  it  was  hazardous  for 
him  to  be  longer  at  the  North.  Next  to  him,  I  think  I 
may  claim  to  stand  on  the  Hst  of  youi'  friends :  for,  my 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  271 

dear  Miss  Rensliawe,  unable  as  I  was  to  serve  you  there, 
perliaps  I  may  be  of  more  effectual  aid  to  you  here." 

I  held  my  fan  so  as  to  shield  my  face  from  the  lights, 
but  Davis  saw  the  tears  that  fell  silently  from  my  eyes.   . 

"  Can  I  do  nothing  for  you  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Would  you  advise  me  to  leave  the  South  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  I  certainly  do  so  advise  you." 

"  How  does  ]\Ir.  Berkley  propose  to  avenge  my  disre- 
gard of  his  injunctions  ?  .  He  told  me  to  go,  and  you  see 
I  am  here  yet." 

"Berkley  has  made  up  his  mind  to  let  you  severely 
alone?" 

"Has  he  said  so?" 

"  No,  he  has  not  mentioned  your  name;  but  I  see  that 
such  is  his  intention." 

"  Then  I  am  quite  ready  to  go;  but  I  fear  I  shall  find  it 
a  matter  of  no  little  difficulty." 

"  In  the  present  state  of  the  country  you  will.  But  I 
will  aid  you  by  every  means  in  my  power,  if  you  will 
allow  me." 

I  thanked  Davis  warmly  for  the  promise,  and  he  en- 
gaged to  furnish  me  with  a  pass  in  a  day  or  two,  and  to 
find  some  one  crossing  the  hues,  who  would  escort  me 
safely  home. 

Our  conversation  ended  soon,  as  it  had  been  deferred 
till  so  late  in  the  evening,  and  the  party  was  just  break- 
ing up. 

Sophia  Hervey  was  talking  busily  to  Berkley  at  the 
door.  Their  tete-a-tete  had  lasted  some  time.  I  evaded 
them  by  that  entrance,  and  made  my  way  to  the  upper 
hall,  where  the  crowd  was  not  so  great,  and  the  danger 
of  fainting  less  imminent.  Adieux  were  interchanged 
with  the  ladies,  above  and  below.  Several  officers  were 
in  the  lobby. 

The  gentlemen  had  gathered  around  the  picture   of 


272  KENSHAWE. 

which  I  have  spoken.  "How  beautiful!"  "Divine!" 
were  the  expressions  which  greeted  my  ears.  Colonel 
Berkley,  having  done  talking  to  Sophia,  stopped  at  the 
group,  and  glanced  at  the  picture. 

"  Isn't  it  beautiful?"  said  Captain  "Walby 

"  Very  inferior  to  the  original,"  answered  the  colonel. 
SoiDhia,  who  leaned  on  the  balustrade,  gi-eeted  this  state- 
ment with  a  significant  "  humph,"  as  the  speaker  passed 
on. 

"It  must  have  been  an  unpleasant  meeting  for  them," 
I  remarked.     "  Were  they  not  much  attached  formerly?" 

"  No,"  she  replied.  "  It  was  a  match  of  interest  alto- 
gether, on  his  side,  if  not  on  hers.  The  woman  is  rich  as 
a  Jew." 

I  stood  there  fiUed  with  deep,  intense  humiliation.  I 
was  not  only  angry  now,  but  wounded  to  the  soul.  Le- 
compton,  a  raving,  fantastic  enthusiast,  had  read  me 
more  rightly  than  the  man  in  whom  I  had  found  so  much 
imaginary  nobility.  For  so  many  months  aU  these  con- 
federate plotters  had  known  my  absurd  infatuation,  and 
Berkley  had  been  base  enough  to  cherish  it  instead  of 
giving  me  up  to  a  fate  that  would  have  been  preferable  to 
such  captivity.  Crushed  and  sad  beyond  expression,  I 
longed  to  flee  at  that  moment  from  the  face  of  the  whole 
world  forever. 


CHAPTER  XXVn. 


OPHIA  touched  me  on  the  arm  as  the  last  hangers- 
on  were  dispersing,  and  drew  me  inside  the  libra- 
ry door. 

"  Louisa,  will  you  see  Colonel  Berkley  a  minute  ?" 
"  Impossible.     Has  he  been  talking  to  you  about  me  ?" 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  273 

"About the  other  night  altogether.  He  has  been  apol- 
ogizing again  to  me,  and  would  apologize  to  you  if  you 
would  consent." 

"I  don't  see  what  apology  he  can  make,  Sophia?" 

"  Well,  he  insists  upon  it  he  was  di-unk." 

"Nonsense !" 

"I  know  it  sounds  nonsensical;  but  that's  what  he 
says,  and  I  have  reaUy  been  obHged  to  promise  I  would 
prevail  upon  you  to  see  him." 

"  You  cannot,  Sophia.  No  excuse  he  can  offer  will  in- 
fluence me." 

"  Perhaps  it  is  just  as  well  you  should  not  be  tempted. 
Berkley  says  he  never  knew  a  woman  that  could  remain 
offended  with  him  longer  than  he  could  gain  speech  with 
her." 

"I  will  see  him." 

"You  icill ?     Do  I  understand  you  rightly  ?" 

"I  will,  unless  he  has  gone." 

"  No,  he  has  not  gone,  although  I  did  assure  him  I  had 
no  idea  of  gaining  your  consent.  I'll  teU  him."  And 
Sophia  hurried  away. 

I  repented  my  rashness  almost  immediately,  but  noth- 
ing could  be  done  now  to  mend  it.  I  opened  every  win- 
dow in  the  library  to  admit  the  night  air,  sank  into  an 
arm-chair  by  the  table,  trembhng  and  feverish,  buried 
my  face  in  my  hands,  and  struggled  to  nerve  myself  to 
strength,  though  bitterly  regTetting  that  I  had  under- 
taken what  I  might  not  carry  out.  It  was  too  late.  Berk- 
ley had  come.  I  glanced  up  as  he  entered,  and  detected 
the  vestige  of  a  smile  on  his  face  as  he  turned  to  close 
the  door.  My  assent  to  the  interview  had  reached  him 
just  as  he  was  quitting  the  house,  for  he  was  fairly  cloaked 
and  took  off  his  gloves  as  he  entered. 

That  smile  stung  me  into  courage.  I  adopted  an  in- 
stant determination  to  cling  to  the  one  idea  of  resistance 


274  RENSHAWK 

throughout  an  interview  to  which  I  had  so  rashly  con- 
sented. As  I  kept  my  eyes  steadily  averted,  after  the  first 
glance  I  could  judge  nothing  by  Berkley's  air,  and  was  not 
a  little  surprised  at  the  unsteadiness  of  his  voice  when  he 
addressed  me.  No  time  was  lost;  he  began,  as  soon  as  he 
crossed  the  threshold,  to  enlarge  on  his  ovei'powering  sense 
of  his  iniquities,  and  on  his  sufferings  under  my  dis- 
pleasure, to  which  it  would  be  impossible  to  do  full  jus- 
tice. It  had  been  the  first  time  in  his  hfe  that  he  had 
been  guilty  of  such  rude  and  ungentlemanly  conduct, 
would  swear  with  all  solemnity  it  should  be  the  last,  pro- 
fessed all  penitence,  and  demanded  pardon.  He  could 
only  plead,  in  defence,  that  his  companions,  on  the  even- 
ing to  which  he  alluded,  were  carried  away  by  an. 
ungovernable  excitement,  which  had  unfortunately  ex- 
tended itself  to  him. 

I  did  not  reply  instantly.  I  was  repelled  by  his  man- 
ner, and  disgusted.  The  words  were  uttered  with 
gi'owing  confidence,  with  arrogance,  with  positive  inso- 
lence. It  was  clear  that  he  was  prompted  by  a  sense 
of  duty,  toward  a  person  whom  he  had  injured  ;  still 
disHking  that  person  beyond  measure,  and  only  anxious 
for  absolution  from  a  memory  of  which  he  had  the  grace 
to  be  ashamed.  All  my  nervousness  and  agitation  was 
gone.  I  lifted  my  head,  and  measured  him  with  my 
eyes  from  head  to  foot. 

"It  is  a  poor  defence,"  I  said;  "and  poor  as  it  is,  it 
cannot  serve  you,  because  it  is  invahd.  The  ungovern- 
able excitement  to  which  you  allude,  if  you  choose  to 
dignify  a  drunken  frolic  by  that  term  did  not  extend 
itself  to  you.     Your  acts  were  willful  and  deliberate." 

"  You  are  severe; — you  are  jitst,"  he  added  after  a  mo- 
ment. "I  stand  convicted  of  a  subterfuge,  in  addition  to 
my  other  enormities.  I  beg  yoti  will  pronounce  pardon 
before  the  catalogue  grows  any  longer." 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  275 

"  You  are  quite  ignorant,"  I  replied,  "  what  length  the 
catalogue  has  attained  ah'eady;  there  are  offences  for 
which  I  know  you  have  not  the  least  intention  to  atone." 

"  If  I  don't  know,  why  will  you  not  tell  me  ?" 

"  I  will.  I  allude  to  words  you  spoke  against  our  com- 
mon country." 

Berkley's  Up  curled.  "  Oh,  I  can't  apologize  to  the 
whole  country  to-night,  Miss  Kenshawe.  Let  that  slide. 
We  can  be  friends,  whether  we  belong  to  a  common  or  a 
separate  kingdom." 

"We  can  not  be  fi'iends,"  said  I.  "We  could  not 
have  been  fi'iends,  had  you  never  offended  me,  Colonel 
Berkley.  I  could  never  have  given  you  friendship, 
because," — and  the  words  came  out  a  Kttle  tremulously, 
but  full  and  emphatic — "  you  once  imagined  I  had  given 
you  more." 

"  T\Tiatever  your  sentiments  may  have  been  formerly,'* 
said  Berkley,  '^  I  need  no  proof  now  that  they  have  un- 
dergone alteration. 

"  Have  you  the  unpardonable  arrogance  to  pronounce 
on  my  sentiments?" 

Berkley  raised  his  dark  eyes  to  mine  :  "  Will  you  deny 
them  ?" 

We  stood  there  face  to  face;  that  question  asked  me 
direct  ;   was  ever  known  such  insolence  ? 

"  Sir,"  and  I  measured  my  words,  that  they  might  not 
contain  the  denial  which  would  neither  serve  pie  nor 
mislead  him,  "I  have  never  entertained  a  favorable 
sentiment  toward  you,  of  which  I  am  not  heartily 
ashamed." 

These  words  had  a  visible  effect. 

"  You  do  not  know,"  I  proceeded,  "  how  low  you  have 
fallen.  You  think  one  word  from  you  should  cover  any 
offence  committed  against  any  one  hving.  In  that  res- 
pect you  are  greatly  mistaken." 


276  RENSHAWE. 

"  But  I  can  give  nothing  but  a  word,  Miss  Eenshawe. 
There's  no  possible  way  of  restitution.  I  have  told  all 
the  gentlemen  that  I  intended  to  apologize  to  you,  and  for 
that  matter,  all  the  ladies.  I  am  ready  to  own  any- 
thing, confess  anything,  promise  anything.  I  know  I 
have  behaved  like  a  ruffian ;  like  a  devil ;  like  a — a 
coward.     Can't  you  forgive   me  now?" 

I  rose.     It  was  time  to  close  the  interview. 

"  If  I  said  yes,  you  would  know  I  did  not  say  it  from 
my  heart." 

"If  you  have  not  intended  to  say  yes,  why  did  you 
allow  me  to  see  you?" 

"  That  you  might  see  how  far  I  am  from  being  angry. 
I  think  you  need  a  lesson.  Colonel  Berkley.  I  regret 
that,  given  by  me,  it  will  possess  so  httle  bitterness.  I 
consented  to  see  you,  that  you  might  not  be  prevented 
from  laying  that  lesson  to  heart,  under  the  impression 
that  I  refuse  all  fui'ther  acquaintance  with  you,  in  a 
passion.     You  see,  I  act  dehberately." 

"If  we  pai-t  unreconciled  to-night,  ]Miss  Eenshawe, 
we  may  regi-et  it." 

"I  shall  not,"  I  answered.  ''I  know  you  can  avenge 
my  hostilities.  I  am  thrown  among  my  enemies, 
and  I  am  at  you  mercy,  but  you  may  do  your 
worst." 

"  I  have  deserved  that  you  should  misjudge  me,"  said 
he.  "  But  have  I  fallen  so  low  in  you  eyes,  as  thatT'  Be- 
fore you  finally  refuse  me  pardon.  Miss  Eenshawe,  I  have 
one  question  to  ask  you  regarding  your  conduct  :  is  it 
Chiistian?" 

This  argument  I  feared  he  would  use,  as  it  was- the 
one,  of  all  others,  which  left  me  without  any  vahd  reply. 
I  was  again  gi-owing  tremulous,  but  clung  desperately  to 
my  resolution. 

"I  do    not  refuse  because   of  the   enormity  of  the 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  277 

offence.  I  beg  you  will  desist  from  this  useless  dispute. 
I  trust  you  are  satisfied  that  I  am  less  weak,  that  I  am, 
if  you  please,  more  vindictive  than  you  thought  me. 
Colonel  Berkley,  you  and  I  are  strangers  hencefor- 
ward." 

On  looking  up,  I  was  struck  to  perceive  that  my 
auditor  had  become  deadly  pale  ;  but  it  was  the  pallor 
that  I  had  seen  on  his  face  near  the  close  of  a  hard  con- 
tested game  of  chess ;  quite  sure,  however,  that  his 
moves  were  done,  it  did  not  trouble  me.  I  gathered  up 
from  the  centre-table  my  fan  and  my  gloves,  and  turned 
to  leave  the  room.  Before  I  had  moved  a  step,  Berkley 
came  up,  and  taking  my  hands  knelt  by  my  side,  exclaim- 
ing with  a  look  and  tone  that  metamorphosed  him  com- 
pletely :  "  Miss  Eenshawe,  for  God's  sake  say  you 
forgive  me." 

For  one  moment  I  was  staggered — only  into  silence  ; 
not  consent.  The  door  opened  and  Mrs.  Lionel  Hervey 
stood  on  the  threshold. 

"  Madam,"  said  I,  as  she  turned  away  with  a  grave 
astonished  face,  "  will  you  send  Miss  Hervey  to  me,  if 
you  please  ?" 

She  bowed  and  withdrew.  Berkley,  who  had  neither 
looked  up  nor  moved,  rang  the  changes  on  his  under- 
toned  appeal  in  vain.  My  message  to  Sophia  had  roused 
another  sentiment.  "  It  is  unnecessary,"  he  said  ;  "  I  will 
trouble  you  no  more  ;  only  for  the  last  time,  will  you 
forgive  me  ?" 

"No." 

Berkley  rose  instantly.  He  turned  and  took  his  hat 
fi'om  the  table.  I  saw  his  face  was  all  glowing  with 
anger.     Ah,  he  was  a  demon  foiled ! 

"  We  are  strangers,"  I  murmured. 

"  Enemies,"  he  said  in  a  voice  i^lf  stifled  with  passion. 

"  Strangers,"  I  repeated.     This  correction  passed  un- 


278  RENSHAWE. 

noticed.  He  had  gone  in  a  hurry,  but  he  had  really 
gone,  and  I  had — triumphed. 

Sophia  was  the  first  person  I  met  on  my  way  below. 

"  You  look  gay  and  defiant ;  what  have  you  done  ?" 

I  told  her  that  there  had  been  a  skirmish  of  souls,  and 
I  had  conquered.  I  begged  for  her  congratulations. 
Sophia  shook  her  head. 

""\Miat,  you  blame  me  ?  Did  you  not  tell  me  that  he 
boasted  of  the  irresistible  effect  of  his  fascinations  ?" 

"  But  his  boasts  did  not  affect  the  merits  of  the  case, 
Louisa.     I'm  afraid  you  were  wrong." 

Wrong!  when  I  had  corrected  his  mistakes,  rebuked 
his  disloyalty,  and  finally  silenced  his  seK  confidence  ? 
My  own  pride  was  gratified,  my  own  mortification 
avenged. 

After  all,  was  there  no  better  lesson  that  I  might  have 
taught  ?  I  spui-ned  the  suggestion.  I  had  gained 
nothing — I  had  lost  much.  I  would  not  acknowledge  it. 
My  heart  was  strangely  hardened  toward  all  the  world. 


CHAPTER  XXYin. 


'  ATI! RD  AY  morning  a  summons  from  bel  ow  brought 
me  down  at  an  early  hour.     Sophia's  face   was 
luminous. 
"  Any  news  ?"  I  inquired. 

"News  from  Washington;  yes.  My  uncle  has  just 
told  us  Laud  and  Cassy  were  married  on  Wednesday 
morning  last." 

Congratulations  as  heartfelt  as  though  they  had  been 
interchanged  on  the  floor  of  reception-rooms  filled  with 
wedding  guests,  passed  between  the  members  of  my 
brother-in-law's  family  and  myself;  but  the  reflection 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  279 

which  lent  solemnity  to  those  congratulations,  was  that 
some  painful  consideration,  connected  with  Captain 
Hervey's  safety,  had  led  to  such  a  hasty  wedding.  Mrs. 
Lionel  Hervey,  quit«  subdued  among  the  host  of  her 
relatives,  had  expressed  her  rejoicings  in  a  soft,  musical 
tone,  and  with  a  most  enchanting  smile,  after  which  she 
flitted  up  the  staircase,  requesting  me  to  join  her  as 
speedily  as  I  could. 

In  the  course  of  that  morning  I  availed  myself  of  the 
invitation.  Mrs.  Hervey's  room  was  a  large  apartment, 
on  the  second  story,  overlooking  the  street,  which  was 
visible  just  beyond  the  lawn.  A  yoimg  negress,  of  lMi\ 
Laud's  household,  was  arranging  baskets  of  flowers  and 
green  boughs  on  the  shelves,  and  Mrs.  Hervey  herself  sat 
by  the  open  window,  apparently  less  engaged  with  the 
work  on  her  lap,  than  with  what  was  going  on  without. 

The  subject  of  the  hot  day  was  done  ample  justice  to. 
Mrs.  Hervey  told  me  that  she  had  been  down  stairs  to 
get  cool,  and  couldn't  ;  up  stairs  to  get  cool  and  didn't  ; 
down  to  the  basement  for  ice,  and  there  wasn't  any.  In 
the  first  place  she  had  sent  Venus  for  ice,  but  she  didn't 
bring  it. 

Venus  giggled,  and  informed  missus  dat  dar  wasn't 
none. 

"  Well,  now  that  I've  sent  for  it  to  the  village,"  said 
Mrs.  Hervey,  "  I  want  you  to  be  on  hand  and  see  that  it 
comes  ;  and  don't  stand  talking  to  the  ice-man  an  hour 
at  the  gate,  as  you  did  yesterday,  till  the  ice  all  melted. 
I  never  saw  anybody  like  you,  Venus,  for  talking  at 
gates." 

Venus  looked  quite  delighted.  "  IVIissus,  you  do  beat 
all,"  she  said.  "  Neber  goes  to  de  gate  ;  must  be  it  wus 
Tilly.  Sorry  missus  hed  to  go  down  fur  de  ice.  Sort 
she'd  knowed  when  I  didn't  come  up  sta'rs  dat  dar  wan't 
none." 


280  RENSHAWE. 

"  Well,  go  down  now,  and  bring  me  the  ice  as  soon  as 
it  comes." 

Venus  lagged  off.  !Mrs.  Hervey  called  after  her  to  tell 
Major  Hervey,  if  he  came,  that  she  wished  to  see 
him. 

"  I  don't  suppose  I  shall  see  him  any  sooner  for  that," 
she  remarked  to  me.  "  I  had  a  great  quarrel  with  him 
yesterday." 

"  "With  your  husband,  ^Ii's.  Heiwey  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  nothing  unusual.  He  is  so  stubborn,  sometimes, 
anybody  would  quarrel  with  him.  We  made  it  up  before 
he  went  away  ;  that  is,  I  went  down  in  the  hot  sim,  all 
the  way  to  the  village,  to  see  him,  and  he  told  me  I  was 
very  silly  to  come  dovni,  for  he  was  not  angry.  Most  un- 
satisfactory person — nobody  can  ever  tell  whether  he  is 
angry  or  not." 

The  subject  of  the  conversation  was  just  then  seen 
coming  into  the  house,  and  after  a  considerable  time, 
during  which  ]Mrs.  Hervey  wondered  not  a  little  at  his 
non-appearance,  he  ran  up  the  stair-case  and  entered  the 
room.  Major  Hervey  looked  exceedingly  amiable ;  his 
aspect  was,  in  every  respect,  thoroughly  praiseworthy  ; 
his  conduct  ditto.  After  shaking  hands  with  me,  and 
expressing  his  happiness  at  the  event  which  had  con- 
nected our  famihes,  he  took  a  meerschaum  pipe  fi'om  his 
pocket,  filled  it  with  tobacco,  and  sat  down  opposite  us 
to  smoke. 

•'Don't  bring  your  villainous  pipes  here,  Lionel,"  ob- 
jected Mrs.  Heiwey. 

"  ;Miss  Eenshawe  likes  pipes,"  replied  Major  Hervey ; 
"  she  told  me  so  the  other  evening,  when  we  were  trav- 
ersing the  beach  at  Honey  Island,  by  moonlight." 

"  That's  the  way  you  do,  eh?"  remarked  ^Irs.  Hervey. 
"  ^Mien  I  am  away  it's  beaches,  and  moonhght,  and  young 
ladies.     Well,   if   jMiss  Renshawe  Hkes  pipes,  I  don't. 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  281 

Please  put  that  out,  Hervey,  and  I'll  liunt  the  house 
through  for  cigars  for  you." 

Major  Hervey  extinguished  the  pipe,  and  took  several 
cigars  from  the  closet. 

"I  can  remember  the  time,"  he  remarked,  "when 
you  did  not  object  so  much  to  a  pipe  as  you  do  now." 

"  Very  likely  ;  but  it  was  not  your  pi^De,"  said  Mrs. 
Hervey,  dryly. 

"  No,  it  was  not  my  pipe,"  said  Major  Hervey ;  "  I  did 
not  intimate  that  it  was." 

"How  long  will  you  be  here  this  morning?"  inquired 
his  wife. 

"  Only  till  I  finish  these  cigars.  The  Washington 
papers  will  be  in  this  morning." 

"  Send  them  round  to  us  if  there  are  any  details  of  the 
wedding,  or  remarks  about  the  bridal  dresses,  though 
probably  there  will  not  be.  It  must  have  been  a  very 
quiet  wedding,  of  course." 

"  I  don't  know  what  you  mean  by  quiet  ;  probably  no 
drums." 

"Drums  !"  repeated  Mrs.-  Hervey. 

"  I  can  tell  you  all  about  it,"  said  Major  Hervey,  "  as 
well  as  the  papers.  The  bride  wore  a  veil,  and  the 
bridegTOom  epaulets  ;  all  the  elite  of  Washington  were 
present,  of  course.  United  States  officers,  numerous 
and  distinguished,  five  or  six  bridesmaids,  and  all  the 
aunts,  uncles,  and  cousins,  on  both  sides,  except  those 
that  were  in  the  Confederate  army,  and  those  that  couldn't 
come.     There  it  is  all  in  a  nutshell." 

"What  did  the  notice  say,  Lionel?"  asked  Mrs. 
Hervey. 

"How  desperate  you  are  for  particulars!  The  notice 
said  they  were  married  on  Wednesday,  July  17th.  Cap- 
tain Laud  Hervey,  U.  S.  A.,  and  Cassandra,  second  daughter 
of  the  late  Robert  Renshawe,  of  New  York." 


282  RENSHAWE. 

"  Why  didn't  you  bring  us  the  paper  ?" 

"  I  did  not  have  it  ;  otherwise  I  should  have  brought 
it,  that  you  might  cut  the  notice  out  and  paste  it  in  your 
scrap-book.  I  have  another  item  of  news  for  you,  not 
culled  fi'om  the  newspapers,  though  I  presume  it  has 
figured  among  them." 

"  A  wedding  ?" 

"  Yes ;  another  wedding — not  very  recent,  some  months 
ago." 

"  Who  do  you  mean  ?" 

"Mi's.  Hunter." 

"Hinda?" 

"Yes." 

•'  She  found  one  fool,"  remarked  Mrs.  Hervey ;  "  I 
didn't  suppose  she  could  find  another.  Who  was  it  on 
this  occasion?" 

"  I  will  let  you  guess." 

"  I  cannot  think  of  any  one  but  Ramsay  Jones." 

"  He  would  not  marry  her,"  I  exclaimed,  "  for  he  does 
not  Like  her." 

"Then  he  has  been  inconsistent,"  said  Major  Hervey. 

"  It  is  Jones,  then,  Lionel  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  Jones." 

Mrs.  Hervey  resorted  to  her  needle,  which  she  pHed 
for  a  few  minutes  in  silence,  while  Major  Hervey  dis- 
cussed with  me  the  facilities  for  my  retui'n  to  Washing- 
ton, which  I  was  anxious  to  effect.  It  was  arranged  that 
I  could  easily  proceed  on  the  following  Monday,  and  a 
few  lucid  dii'ections  were  given.  Major  Hervey  remarked 
that  Colonel  Berkley  could  afford  me  the  most  valuable 
assistance.  I  declined  Colonel  Berkley's  aid  on  the  spot, 
and  Major  Hervey  consequently  promised  me  aU  in  his 
power. 

"I  wonder  who  will  be  married  next?"  said  Mrs. 
Hervey. 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  283 

"Aren't  two  weddings  sufficient?'*  asked  the  major. 
"  I  can't  say,  my  dear,  who  will  next  have  his  head  in  the 
noose.  We  have  enough  to  do  just  now  without  think- 
ing of  matrimony.  Perhaps  it  will  be  Berkley  next. 
He  intends  to  invite  us  to  his  wedding  when  it  does  take 
place." 

"I'd  rather  go  to  his  funeral,"  replied  Mrs.  Hervey. 

Her  husband  laughed. 

"A  delightful  frame  of  mind  you  are  in,  my  dear," 
said  he  ;  "  Miss  Eenshawe  must  be  regaled  by  such 
society.  My  cigar  is  nearly  done,  and  I  must  be  off  for 
the  camp.     Any  message  to  send  to  General  Beauregard  ?'* 

"  Tell  him  to  put  Colonel  Berkley  in  front,  if  there  is  a 
a  battle.     Eeally,  his  funeral  would  be  such  a  variety." 

Hervey  shook  his  head. 

"  Then  you  would  not  Hke  a  variety  ?  " 

"I  would  not  have  that  variety,"  said  he.  "The 
funeral  may  be  the  rule  by  and  by,  not  the  exception." 

"  Oh,  Hervey,  you  have  been  keeping  up  that  mournful 
prophecy  so  long ! " 

"I,  Mary?  I  am  sure  I  have  said  nothing  of  the  sort." 

"  I  suppose  you  forget ;  but  you  are  all  the  time  saying 
what  a  bloody  war  it  will  be,  and  all  that ;  and  I  am  sure 
so  far  it  has  been  only  play,  and  will  be  over  in  three 
months.  If  you  \ton't  have  Colonel  Berkley  shot  we  will 
have  your  funeral;  I'm  determined  on  some  variety.  I'll 
write  to  your  general,  and  tell  him  to  put  you  in  front." 

"  It  is  often  more  dangerous  in  the  rear,"  said  Major 
Hervey.  "  You  see,  my  dear,  I  don't  admit  any  sugges- 
tion that  may  conduce  to  your  entertainment." 

Mrs.  Hervey  took  her  writing  desk  on  her  lap  : 

"  You  see,  Lionel,  General  Beauregard  does  not  know 
me  ;  but  if  you  tell  him  that  my  beauty  is  in  inverse  ratio 
to  your  ughness,  his  gallantry  wiU  leave  him  no  choice. 
My  dear  General  Beauregard  :  by  sending  Major  Hervey 


284  KENSHAWE. 

with  all  the  signals  and  white  flags  in  front,  during  the 
next  battle,  or,  if  there  are  better  cannons  in  the  rear,  by 
sending  him  back — in  short,  by  kiUing  him  off  as  speedily 
as  possible — ^you  will  lay  under  everlasting  obhgations, 
yours,  etc." 

"White  flags?"  repeated  Major  Hervey,  "and  cannons 
in  the  rear  ?  what  do  you  mean  ?  " 

By  the  way,  I  must  have  a  postscript — what's  Colonel 
Berkley's  regiment,  Lionel?" 

«  The th  North  CaroHna." 

"Postscript. —  General  Beauregard  wiU  more  particu- 
larly obHge  !Mrs.  Hervey,  by  placing  the th  regiment 

of  North  CaroHna,  and  its  colonel,  in  some  very  safe 
place.  That  request  is  couched  in  more  formal  terms  for 
obvious  reasons.     Here,  Lionel,  be  careful  of  it." 

Major  Hervey  took  the  note  that  she  held  out  to  him, 
glanced  at  the  gi-aceful  hand-writing,  then  gave  the  paper 
a  twist  and  threw  it  on  the  table. 

"TMiat!  you  won't  take  it?  how  silly!'* 
•   "Do  you  think  it  siUy?" 

"Yes,  you  are  always  silly  about  my  jests ! " 

"  There  is  a  sort  of  infection  about  your  jests,  my  dear," 
said  Hervey,  "something  magnetic." 

"  Very  severe  you  are  ;  but  I  am  not  to  be  daunted — 
you  have  not  said  yet  what  style  of  coffin  you  approve." 

Major  Hervey  made  no  reply.  He  took  the  note  from 
the  table,  folded  it,  and  put  it  in  an  envelope.  INlrs.  Her- 
vey offered  her  pen  ;  but  he  placed  the  note  in  his  pocket 
undirected. 

"  Suppose  you  should  forget  whom  it  is  for,"  said  ^Mrs. 
Heiwey. 

"  I  will  not  forget." 

"  "^liy,  Lionel,  ai'e  you  going  ?  you  have  not  half  con- 
sumed that  cigar.  Well,  I  hope  when  you  come  to  mor- 
row, you  won't  be  severe." 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  285 

Major  Hervey  bowed  a  good  morning  to  me,  kissed  his 
wife,  took  his  cap  from  the  table,  and  moved  to  the  door; 
he  came  back  and  kissed  her  again,  walked  into  the  hall, 
and  went  half-way  down  the  stairs,  then  came  back  and 
repeated  the  caress  a  third  time. 

"What's  the  reason  of  all  this  parade?"  she  asked; 
"  do  you  intend  to  desert  to  the  North  this  afternoon  ?" 

"I  want  you  to  remember,"  said  he,  "that  you  need 
never  recall  a  word  you  have  said  to  me  this  morning  in 
sorrow.     Do  you  understand  me  ?" 

"  No,  I  don't  understand  ;  but  I  will  try  to  obey. 
Good-bye." 

"Good-bye."  He  left  the  room,  and  shortly  after  I 
saw  his  figure  on  the  walk.  At  the  gate  he  stopped  and 
retained  his  station  till  his  cigar  was  finished,  with  his 
face  turned  toward  the  casement,  at  which  Mrs.  Her- 
vey was  visible.  She  waved  a  handkerchief  from  the 
window  ;  but  there  was  no  response.  Neither,  hand,  nor 
hat,  nor  tassel  moved,  and  at  last,  turning  away  from  his 
silent  scrutiny.  Major  Hervey  struck  into  the  highway, 
and  was  soon  out  of  sight. 

"I  cannot  imagine  what  the  matter  is,"  remarked 
Mrs.  Hervey,  throwing  the  handkerchief  she  had  been 
waving  on  the  table.  "I  must  ask  him,  when  he  comes 
to-morrow.  I  am  afraid  I  made  him  angry  with  my  non- 
sense. Don't  you  think  he  was  angry?  I  am  always  sorry 
when  it  is  too  late,  and  never  think  at  the  time." 

Venus  clattered  up  stairs  with  the  ice,  a  huge  straw 
hat  surmounting  her  black  physiognomy,  with  a  brim  so 
enormous  that  it  brushed  the  door  on  either  side  in  pass- 
ing. 

"  Dear  me,  Venus — where  did  you  get  that  hat  ?  " 
"Changed  hats  wid  de  ice-man,  missus." 
"Ah,  did  you  meet  Major  Hervey?" 
"  Yes,  missus,  an'  met  Gunnel  Hunter." 


286  RENSHAWE. 

"  What  did  he  say  to  you  ?  " 

"  Don't  like  to  tell,"  said  Yenus,  simperingly. 

"  Nonsense — you  must  tell — what  did  he  say  ?  " 

"  Said  if  I  trabbeled  so  fast  all  de  oder  niggers  would 
git  married  fust,  for  de  beaux  couldn't  ketch  up.  Law ! 
missus,  he  grabbed  a  hull  handful  ob  de  ice — got  scratches 
and  cuts  all  ober  his  hands  and  face." 

"What!  Major  Heryey?" 

"Oh,  no  missus  —  tort  you  meant  Gunnel  Hunter. 
Mas'r  Lionel  nebber  said  nuffin,  'cept  '  Yenus,  you  ort  to 
hev  a  bigger  hat.'  " 

"He  said  nothing  else?" 

"  Nuffin,  missus." 

"That  will  do, — you  may  go." 

The  rest  of  the  day  was  lounged  away  in  a  quiet,  dreamy 
state,  as  happily  as  a  day  could  pass  under  such  circum- 
stances. Thoughts  of  Gassy  and  her  husband,  of  my 
mother  and  sister,  far  away  in  a  city  filled  with  our  coun- 
try's implacable  foes,  my  brother  in  the  field,  our  vacant 
home,  oui'  scattered  family — these  might  have  been  suffi- 
cient to  depress  a  spirit  far  stronger  than  mine.  It 
seemed  a  day  given  up  to  recollection.  I  could  neither 
wiite,  nor  di'aw,  nor  sew.  I  could  do  nothing  but  gaze 
at  the  floating  clouds,  at  the  waving  trees,  Hsten  to  the 
song  of  the  birds,  and  the  happy  laughter  of  the  negroes 
below  stau'S,  and  resign  myself  to  the  memory  of  the  last 
few  months.  As  the  sun  went  down,  I  watched  it  from 
the  bench  beneath  the  oak  tree  just  before  the  door.  It 
sank  behind  the  brown  hills  of  the  west,  in  a  haze  of 
glory,  through  which  the  round  red  ball  rose  and  fell 
until  all  was  gone  except  the  bright  reflection  on  the  sky. 
Recollections  crowded  thick  and  fast — I  thought  of  the 
happy  Tillage  and  sea-washed  coast  at  Renshawe,  the 
whirl  and  bustle  and  excitement  among  the  great  mass 
of  humanity  at  New  York,  the  hill  and  wood-land,  and 


WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  287 

grand  solitude  at  Blue  Hills,  the  military  camps  and 
pleasant  groves  of  White  Chinmeys.  Forms  and  faces 
and  scenes  came  vividly  before  my  mental  vision — my 
mother,  my  sister,  the  Ostranders,  Mr.  Shaker,  Mrs.  Jud- 
son,  Tomlin — all — all  past. 

Night  came  down  before  I  knew  it.  A  call  from  the 
piazza  was  unheeded  —  a  hand  laid  on  my  shoulder 
roused  me  to  myself.  I  looked  up  and  saw  Mrs.  Hervey, 
her  face  radiant  with  beauty  and  happiness. 

"  Come,  my  dear  Miss  Renshawe,  don't  sit  out  here  any 
longer  ;  tea  waits  in  the  dining-room,  and  my  uncle  has 
sent  me  to  call  you  in." 

I  rose,  with  a  heart  which  the  gay,  light  voice  had 
cheered,  and  followed  my  companion  to  the  house. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 


MANASSAS. 


lO^IE  faint  streaks  of  Hght  were  visible  in  the  east- 
ern sky,  on  the  morning  of   Sunday,  July  2l8t, 
when  I  was  awakened  by  Sophia  from  slumbers 
that  had  been  Hght  and  insufficient. 

"Is  there  any  bad  news?"  I  inquired,  noticing  the 
troubled  expression  that  her  features  wore. 

"  There  is  news  that  the  Northern  army  is  advancing 
fi'om  Washington.  Reports  are  so  unreliable,  that  we 
hardly  know  what  to  beheve  as  yet ;  but  at  aU  events,  we 
fear  a  battle  is  imminent.  Mr.  Laud  and  my  brother  have 
been  out  some  time.  They  are  in  a  terrible  state  of  ex- 
citement, and  the  most  painful  part  of  it  is,  each  in  a  dif- 
ferent cause.  My  brother  is  sure  that  the  rebels  will  run 
at  the  first  sight  of  our  flag,  and  Mr.  Laud  beheves  as 


288  RENSHAWE 

firmly  the  contrai-y.  Tliere  are  only  two  considerations 
that  have  weight  with  either  :  that  there  is  a  son  and 
nephew  in  Beaui'egard's  army,  and  another,  it  is  more 
than  probable,  on  the  other  side." 

In  S25ite  of  the  forced  calmness  with  which  Sophia  had 
spoken,  I  saw  that  this  consideration  was  one  which 
lent  poignancy  to  her  fears. 

I  dressed  rapidly,  and  came  below  to  the  parlor.  The 
family  was  all  gathered  on  the  piazza,  seated  on  the 
steps  and  chaii's,  in  anxious  consideration  of  the  news. 
The  same  state  of  affairs  was  visible  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  street.  The  steps  and  hotels  were  filled  at  the 
windows  and  doors,  secession  flags  floated  triumphantly 
over  the  scene. 

Mrs.  Lionel  Hervey  was  the  person  who  said  the  least, 
and  apparently  thought  the  most,  in  the  assembly.  She 
stood  in  the  hall-door,  her  lovely  face  turned  toward  the 
throng  gathering  at  the  corners,  hstening  gi'avely  to  all 
the  excited  comments  of  the  company,  without  remark, 
and  without  motion.  At  last,  calling  one  of  the  negroes 
to  her  side,  she  charged  him  with  a  slight  commission, 
and  betaking  herself*  to  the  shaded  well-path,  paced  up 
and  down  alone,  with  the  copy  of  a  paper  in  her  hand, 
which  she  thoughtfully  consulted. 

In  the  mean  time  the  sun  rolled  on,  the  negroes  chat- 
tered, the  dogs  barked  on  the  lawn,  the  graceful  white 
di'ess  trailed  up  and  down  the  well-path,  the  anxious 
voices  sounded  under  the  \hies  of  the  veranda.  ]Mr. 
Laud  had  several  times  crossed  the  street  to  get  the 
news,  and  the  last  report  silenced  whatever  hope  we  had 
cherished  that  the  whole  alarm  was  groundless. 

"They  are  on  the  Warrenton  turnpike  —  Lincoln's 
men,  I  hear,"  said  he. 

"  "WTiere  ai'e  the  Confederate  forces  ?"  asked  ]\Irs.  Lio- 
nel Hervey. 


"WHITE  CHIMNEYS.  289 

"  I  cannot  tell ;  they  have  not  moved.     In  the  region 
of  Bull's  Run,  I  reckon.     They  are  all  ready,  no  doubt." 
Mrs.   Lionel  Hervey  te-entered  the   house.      Imme- 
diately after  there  came  a  report  jarring  the  very  stones 
on  which  we  stood. 

"  Cannon ! "  was  oui'  host's  exclamation.    "  They  have 
met!" 

Several  gentlemen  rode  by  the  paling  with  cheers.  Mr. 
Laud  caUed  to  them  :  "  God  speed  the  right ! " 

"Aren't  you  going  out  to  see  the  battle?"  they  de- 
manded.  "  Get  your  horse  and  follow  us ! "  They  rode  on. 
The   suggestion  was  followed.      Mr.   Laud   and  his 
brother-in-law  took  the  fleetest  horses  in  the  stables,  and 
rode  off  toward  the  Junction. 

It  was  a  terrible  day  for  the  nation,  and  those  first 
conscious  of  the  struggle  suffered  not  a  Httle  in  anticipa- 
tion of  what  was  in  store  for  the  rest.     That  steady  roar, 
undiminished,   unabated,  uninterrupted,  rose  over   the 
hills  and  rolled  through  the  valleys,  till  it  seemed  to  re- 
verberate in  the  very  clouds  of  the  horizon.     There  were 
incessant    tokens    from  the   field  — men   were   passing 
through   the   street   on  hasty  errands,  riderless  horses 
grazed  along  the  way-side,  startled  away  by  the  passers  ; 
flying  rumors  were  incessant  and  distracting.     Success 
was  reported,  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other  ; 
but  while  that  awful  roar  still  jarred  the  windows,  and 
the  smoke  still  ascended,  nothing  could  be  decided  yet. 
No  doubt,  that  to-morrow  the  wires  would  tell  the  tale  of 
our  victory  all  over  the  North,  and  I  thanked  God  de- 
voutly in  that  anticipation.     Distracted  as  I  was,  I  had 
forgotten  one  of  our  company,  and  it  was  not  till  the 
afternoon  that  I  inquii'ed  \^here  was  Mrs.  Lionel  Hervey. 
She  was  on  the  housetop,  whither  I  hastened  to  join 
her.     The  hot  sun  was  beating  down  on  the  roof  through 
the  waving  boughs  of  the.  surrounding  trees.     Mrs.  Her- 
13 


290  RENSHAWE. 

vey  knelt  by  the  balusters  of  the  roof,  holding  a  telescope 
to  her  eyes,  which  was  directed  steadily  toward  the 
quarter  of  the  conflict.  I  came  up  and  asked  if  she 
could  see  anything  that  was  going  on. 

"  Nothing  distinctly,"  slie  answered,  "  except  a  horse, 
now  and  then,  without  a  rider.  You  may  take  the  glass; 
my  eyes  ache  with  looking  through  it.  It  is  now  some 
hours  since  I  came  here." 

I  took  the  telescoxDC,  and,  kneeling  beside  her,  strove  to 
distinguish  some  figure  or  movement  on  the  distant  field, 
but  all  swam  before  my  eyes.  I  saw  nothing  but  the 
trees,  and  the  dust  on  the  distant  turnpike. 

"  That's  not  the  WaiTenton  road,"  said  Mrs.  Hervey. 
"  that  runs  on  the  other  side  of  Manassas.  I  wish  this 
battle  were  over.  The  certainty  that  something  was  de- 
cided, would  be  a  blessed  one." 

Mr.  Laud  and  !Mr.  Hervey  returned  about  three 
in  the  afternoon.  They  had  gathered  nothing  beyond 
the  fact  that  no  result  of  importance  had  yet  taken 
place.  Neither  party  had  gained  any  apparent  advan- 
tage. 

Night  came  at  last.  The  guns  had  been  silent  half  an 
hour  or  more,  when,  to  the  anxious  crowd  on  the  piazza, 
'Mr.  Laud  rushed  back  from  his  latest  sally  beyond  the 
gate. 

"Mary!  Mary!"  he  shouted.  "Hurrah!  Dixie  for- 
ever !     We  have  won  the  day!" 

A  gleam  of  triumph  shot  across  I\Irs.  Hervey's  features. 
"  God  be  thanked!"  she  ejaculated. 

"  My  dear  sir,"  cried  Sophia,  aghast,  "  there  must  be 
some  mistake.  It's  quite  impossible  that  the  North  has 
lost  this  battle." 

"  I  know,"  rejoined  Mr.  Laud,  "  that  you  think  it  im- 
possible for  the  North  to  fail  in  anything;  nevertheless, 
the  Confederate  flags  are  going  up  all  over  the  village,  and 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  291 

a  soldier,  just  in  from  the  Junction,  informs  me  that  the 
Northern  army  is  in  full  retreat  for  Washington.  The 
Fire  Zouaves  are  cut  in  pieces." 

Up  to  that  moment  not  a  single  doubt  of  the  issue  had 
risen  in  my  mind.  Like  Soj)hia,  I  had  thought  that  de- 
feat for  us  was  impossible.  Consternation  shone  in  the 
faces  of  all  the  company  except  the  two  by  whom  the 
result  was  hailed  with  rejoicing. 

"Let  me  tell  the  servants,"  said  Mr.  Laud,  little  fancy- 
ing our  unsympathizing  faces.  "  They  shall  have  a  jubilee 
to-morrow,"  and  he  hastened  from  the  room. 

The  truth  of  the  tidings  was  realized  at  last.  Mr.  Her- 
vey  paced  the  room  in  anguish  that  was  visibly  portrayed 
on  his  features.  His  wife  and  daughters  wept  bitterly. 
A  feeling  too  deep  for  tears  had  seized  upon  my  heart.  I 
had  looked  upon  the  rebels  with  the  leniency,  the  sympa- 
thy, even,  that  may  be  granted  safely  to  a  vanquished  foe. 
For  these  successful  traitors  I  had  no  sentiment  but  in- 
dignation. ' 

"  You  may  abate  your  anxiety,"  said  Mr.  Laud,  on  his 
return  to  the  piazza.  "  I  understand  that  Laud  has  not 
left  Washington,  and  as  Beauregard's  force  was  not 
engaged,  Lionel,  of  course,  was  out  of  danger." 

There  was  nothing  in  this  to  reassure  me.  All  the  eve- 
ning chance  reports  were  carried  back  and  forth.  It 
was  late  before  Mr.  Laud  shut  up  the  house  for  the  night. 


CHAPTEE  XXX. 

AFTER    THE    BATTLE. 


ONE  of  us  thought  of  sleep  that  night,  beyond  the 
shght  snatches  of  rest  which  wearied  nature  abso- 
lutely demanded.   The  village  was  filled  with  pass- 


292  RENSHAWE. 

ing  squads  of  soldiers,  and  alive  witli  excitement  all 
night.  Reports  of  an  alarming  nature  agitated  the  house- 
hold. Mr.  Laud  had  ascertained  that  the  Federal  force, 
led  by  General  McDowell,  had  engaged  Beauregard's 
army;  that  Johnston  had  reinforced  Beauregard  ^Nith 
twenty  thousand  men;  but  whether  Johnston's  corps  had 
been  in  the  battle  or  not  he  had  not  discovered. 

The  inteUigence  that  partially  relieved  my  mind 
brought  bitter  uncertainty  to  the  others.  That  Major  Her- 
vey  had  been  in  the  battle  was  certain,  and  it  was  by  no 
means  uncertain  that  Captain  Hervey  was  not  on  the 
other  side.  Mr.  Hervey,  evidently  for  the  sake  of  con- 
cealing his  own  anxiety,  attempted  to  alleviate  the  fears 
of  the  others  by  assurances  that  reports  of  slaughter 
were  always  exaggerated;  that  General  Scott  had  said  it 
requu'ed  a  waste  of  five  hundi'ed  pounds  of  lead  to  kill 
one  man  in  a  battle,  etc. 

It  was  a  relief  when  morning  came  at  last.  Qui-  weary, 
sad,  and  haggard  party  was  gathered  in  the  httle  front 
parlor  of  the  house — the  fresh  breeze  blowing  in  from 
the  street  under  the  heaxj  green  vines  of  the  piazza. 
Hot  faces  and  fevered  temj^les  were  tui-ned  towards  the 
casement.  Outside  all  was  cool  and  refi-eshmg  to  the 
sight — the  stones  of  the  cui'b — the  overhanging  branches 
— the  grasses,  wet  with  the  dews  of  the  night — the 
mists  dispersing  in  the  morning  sun. 

The  anxiety  about  Major  Hervey  was  but  ill-concealed, 
even  by  those  who  strove  most  manfully  to  overcome 
feelings  for  the  sake  of  the  rest.  Mrs.  Lionel  Hervey 
wandered  through  the  house  and  about  the  grounds,  her 
white  di'ess  floating  down  by  the  gateway,  and  her 
anxious  face  soon  after  in  the  hall,  while  to  ever)^  one  she 
met  was  put  the  question,  "Has  Lionel  come?"  Her 
mother-in-law  took  her  hand  at  last,  and  drew  her  gently 
by  her  side  on  the  sofa,  saying  to  her,  reassuringly,  that 


WHITE  CHBINEYS. 


293 


Lionel  would  not  be  able  to  come  himself,  and  until  some 
inteUigence  readied  tliem  of  bis  safety,  suspense  must  be 
borne  with  patience.  Mr.  Laud  and  Mr.  Hervey  bad 
gone  again  and  again  to  the  viUage  to  learn  every  passing 
rumor,  and  returned  unsatisfied,  and  at  last  I  judged 
from  their  quiet  station,  taken  at  the  hall-door,  that  they 
had  decided  to  remain  at  home,  and  wait  developments 

there. 

Among  the  mihtary  groups  passing  through  the  street, 
a  company  of  officers  rode  iip  to  the  gate.  Mr.  Laud 
walked  out  on  the  piazza.  There  was  the  customary 
greeting  of  "Dixie  forever,"  an inquiij  about  Major  Her- 
vey stm  unsatisfied,  then  I  heard  Mr.  Laud  say,  "  A  glo- 
rious day  for  us,  gentlemen." 

One  of  the  officers  observed,  "Yes,  it  was  a  finer  affair 
than  Centreville." 

"Are  you  not  coming  in?"  called  Mr.  Laud.  "Come 
in,  gentlemen,  and  take  a  glass  of  wine  with  me  on  this 


occasion  " 


No,  su%  thank  you;  we  are  only  waiting  for  Colonel 
Berkley,"  rejoined  one  of  the  officers,  whom  I  recognized 
as  belonging  to  the  Colonel's  staff.     "  Is  he  not  here  ?" 

"  I  beheve  not.  I  will  see,"  said  Mr.  Laud.  He  went 
back  into  the  drawing-rooms,  where  several  gentlemen 
and  ladies  fi'om  the  neighborhood  were  gathered.  At  the 
same  moment  I  saw  an  officer  gaUoping  up  the  highway; 
a  horse  reined  at  the  fence;  a  bridle  thrown  to  one  of 
the  officers.  The  rider  dismounted,  came  over  the  gate 
and  up  the  pathway.  It  was  Colonel  Berkley;  but  so 
soiled  and  dusty  as  scarcely  to  be  recognized.  As  every- 
body pressed  forward  to  jneet  him,  he  entered  thi'ough 
the  open  doors.  When  he  saw  who  was  there,  his  coun- 
tenance grew  rather  dark,  and  by  the  paling  cheeks  of 
those  around  me,  I  knew  that  his  change  of  features  car- 
ried warning  of  evil  to  other  souls  than  mine. 


29i  EENSHAWE. 

"IMr.  Laud,  may  I  see  you  a  mompnt?"  he  said,  turn- 
ing to  draw  back  again  to  the  veranda. 

"Stop,  Colonel  Berkley,"  said  Mr.  Hervey,  who  was  vio- 
lently trembling.  "Do  you  know  anything  about  my 
son  ?" 

"Yes,  sir;  we  have  the  returns  this  morning,"  Berkley 
rejoined,  "  and  I  am  sorry  to  be  made  the  bearer  of  very 
bad  news." 

"For  God's  sake,  speak!  Let  us  know  the  worst!" 
cried  the  unhappy  mother,  while  ^Mrs.  Lionel  Hervey, 
with  a  look  and  manner  of  the  most  intense  agitation, 
came  up  to  Berkley,  and  laying  her  hand  on  his  arm, 
exclaimed,  "  I  conjure  you,  as  you  have  a  soul  to  be  saved, 
do  not  trifle  with  us — it  is  such  an  awful  moment  for 
us  all,  remember!  Where  is  my  husband?  Is  he  a  pris- 
oner, wounded?  Can  I  see  him?  Answer  me;  answer 
me !"  and  she  shook  him  by  the  arm.  "  Perhaps  he  is  at 
the  point  of  death !" 

"  Madam,"  said  Berkley,  "  your  husband "  but  the 

look  in  that  eye  even  he  could  not  meet,  and  he  turned 
to  ]\L:.  Hervey.     "Sir,  youi'  son  is — dead." 

Mr.  Hervey  covered  his  face  with  his  hands,  and 
groaned.  I  saw  the  bereaved  mother  surrounded,  and 
led  from  the  room,  followed  by  her  weej^ing  daughters, 
and  those  whose  commiseration  and  sympathy  was  testi- 
fied on  every  side.  'Mxs.  Lionel  Hervey,  with  one  single 
heart-rending  scream,  faltered^  and  swooned  at  the  feet 
of  the  messenger.  I  saw  Berkley  hft  her  fi'om  the  floor. 
A  crowd  came  about  them — the  windows  were  thro^Ti 
wide  open — cold  water  was  brought,  and  at  the  first  sign 
of  returning  consciousness,  she  was  carried  fi'om  the 
room.  All  had  gone  but  me.  'Mr.  Laud  had  followed 
Colonel  Berkley  to  the  piazza  to  put  a  few  questions  rel- 
ative to  the  disposal  of  the  "body. 

The  whole  sad  scene  was  soon  over.     I  saw  the  rebel 


WHITE   CHIMNEYS.  295 

officer  shaking  hands  with  the  bereaved  uncle,  after 
which  he  joined  the  company  Hghting  their  cigars  at  the 
gate.  They  all  rode  off  directly.  Mr.  Laud  dispersed 
the  servants  by  some  orders,  among  which  I  distin- 
guished a  charge  to  close  the  shutters,  and  hang  the 
doors  with  crape.  When  he  turned  to  re-cross  the 
threshold,  I  judged  by  the  tears  that  filled  his  eyes  that 
the  "  successful  arms  "  he  had  glorified  had  won  for  him 
a  dear-bought  victory. 


EENSHAWE 
.m. 

PORT  e\t;lyn. 


Aye,  now  I  am  in  Arden  ;  the  more  fool  I :  when  I  was  at  home  I  was  in  a 
better  place,  but  travelers  must  be  content. 

As  You  Like  It. 


CHAPTER  XXXI. 


tPASS  furnished  by  Captain  Davis,  who  had  been 
very  energetic  in  my  behalf,  enabled  me  to  reach 
Washington  that  night. 
I  was  so  ill  that  I  made  my  way  to  my  aunt's  house 
with  difficulty,  and  soon  sank  entirely  under  a  fever,  which 
prostrated  me  for  nearly  two  months.  I  was  long  in 
recovering  my  former  vigor,  and  my  convalescence  was 
attended  with  wearisome  relapses. 

Laud  was  at  the  North,  on  recruiting  service,  and 
Cassy  followed  him  as  soon  as  my  health  was  faiiiy  re- 
established. I  had  wi'itten  twice  to  Mr.  Shaker,  but  had 
received  no  answer,  and  deteimined  to  make  a  flying  visit 
to  Blue  Hills,  to  ascertain  for  myself  the  cause  of  this 
silence.     On  the  momiug  after  Cassy's  departure,  I  left 


POUT   EVELYN.  297 

the  city  by  an  early  train,  but  missed  a  connection,  and 
did  not  arrive  at  Eocky  Cross,  in  consequence,  till  noon. 
At  Rocky  Cross  I  liired  a  little  carriage,  and  drove  solita- 
rily down  to  Blue  Hills  by  the  road  with  which  I  was 
already  so  famihar.  There  was  the  little  cottage  at  which 
I  had  first  seen  Edith  Launey,  and  as  I  passed  the  picket 
fence,  confining  the  shrubbery,  I  almost  expected  the 
appearance  of  that  lovely  demoiselle.  There  were  the 
same  rocks  and  hills  that  I  had  noted  with  such  a  sinking 
heart,  during  my  midnight  ride  on  Sunset  ;  there  was 
the  cart-path  running  through  the  woods,  within  whose 
gloomy  shades  I  had  left  Tomlin  on  that  memorable 
night,  and  next  came  the  cottage  where  I  had  first  en- 
countered the  zouaves,  and  where  the  wounded  rebels 
had  been  taken  by  their  fellows.  The  cottage  seemed 
singularly  deserted  ;  no  sign  of  life  about  it ;  but  I  could 
not  tarry  to  investigate,  and  drove  on  rapidly  to  Blue 
Hills.  I  came  first,  by  a  back  road,  to  the  village,  where 
I  left  my  horse,  and  walked  up  toward  Mr.  Shaker's 
dwelling.  In  the  village,  everything  appeared  to  be  going 
on  quietly,  and  quite  as  much  as  though  the  country  was 
undergoing  no  convulsion,  as  in  any  Northern  town. 
The  old  house  at  last  loomed  up  before  me.  I  saw  the 
fences,  the  dog  kennel,  the  old  cistern  pole,  the  dilapi- 
dated out-buildings,  Singular  Twist's  straw  hat  hanging 
on  the  shed.  I  walked  up  the  path,  and  took  my  way 
around  the  house  to  the  back  door.  The  dog  crawled 
feebly  to  the  edge  of  the  kennel,  and  whimpered  faintly 
as  I  passed.  "When  I  came  to  the  door  of  the  back  sit- 
ting-room, the  only  sign  of  life  I  could  distinguish  was  a 
woman's  voice,  singing  a  song  with  a  low  refrain.  She 
sat  with  her  profile  toward  me  at  the  window,  singing 
and  sewing.  I  recognised  the  hard  features,  the  massive 
knot  of  brown  hair,  the  steady  jerk  of  the  hand  that  held 
the  needle,  the  skein  of  coarse  thread  hanging  about  the 


298  RENSHAWE. 

sunburnt  neck,  and  the  low,  full  voice  of  the  songstress. 
She  had  not  noticed  me. 

"  IVIi'S.  Judson  !"  said  I. 

The  woman  looked  up  ;  there  was  an  exclamation  of 
astonishment ;  then  the  work  fell  to  the  floor  ;  she 
caught  me  in  her  arms,  gave  me  a  hearty  embrace,  and 
burst  into  tears. 

"Oh,  Miss  Renshawe,  jou  can't  think  how  overj'ied  I 
am  to  see  you  agin',  arter  so  long  a  time,  and  this  veiy 
artemoon,  while  I  wus  settin'  here  alone,  I  wus  a-thinkin' 
about  you,  an'  all  the  rest  on  'em,  an'  the  times  we  used 
to  have  here.  Good  laws!  whar  did  you  come  from? 
I  thort  you  must  be  dead,  or  forgotten  aU  about  us !" 

"  Forgotten  you  ?  no  !  but  where  are  Mr.  Shaker  and 
Miss  Edith?" 

"  Bless  you !  ben  gone  this  good  while  ;  gone  for  all 
winter.  ]\Iiss  Edith  warn't  well,  an'  they've  gone  to  the 
West  Injies  to  stay  all  winter.  Hevn't  heerd  from  'em 
sense  they  left.  ]Mi\  Shaker,  you  know,  won't  travel  in  a 
locomotive,  and  wharever  he  goes  it  takes  him  a  month 
to  git  thar.  They've  gone  in  a  steamboat,  I  believe. 
Sing'lar  Twist's  gone  a-visitin'  his  relations.  Went  to 
stay  three  days,  and  ben  gone  now  seven  weeks  ;  but 
that  ain't  nawthin'  strange.  S'pect  they'll  be  a  good  deal 
gladder  to  see  him  go  than  they  wus  to  see  him  come." 

"  Then  you  are  all  alone  here,  -now  ?" 

"  All  but  Sally  Bunn.  She's  just  gone  up  the  moun- 
tain to  git  a  few  yeast  cakes  ;  time  she  vrus  back.  Sally's 
growed  a  good  deal  in  a  year,  ^Miss  Renshawe — quite 
tall  an'  lively  now,  and  wars  white  stockens  all  the  time. 
She's  a-goin'  to  be  married !     Guess  who  it's  to." 

"  Not  Singular  ?"  I  exclaimed. 

"Laws,  ;^Ess  Renshawe,  Sally's  too  spry  to  look  twice 
at  Sing'lar.  No  ;  it's  the  zwarve,  Ehsha.  They're  a-goen 
to  be  married,  that  is,  providen'  he  doesn't  get  drunk  in 


PORT   EVELYN. 


299 


a  year.     I  asked  her  how  she  wus  to  know,  an'  she  said 

he'd  tell' her.     Never  see  sech  a  poor  bewitched  critter  in 

•  my  life  as  that  gal  is.     Mebbe  he  ken  tell  her  as  straight 

as  he  walks  ;  I  never  seed  him  whenhe  warn't  haH  tipsy." 

"AndTomlin?" 
.  "  Hain't  sot  eyes  on  him  since  the  day  we  seed  him  out 
o'  that  winder,  a-walkin'  down  to  the  village.  Miss 
Edith,  she  writ  two  or  three  times,  but  never  got  no 
answer  ;  an'  I've  wondered  an'  worried  about  him  more 
than  a  httle.  Shed  think  he  wus  dead,  but  thar's  ben 
too  many  folks  here  inquiren'  about  him." 

It  was  too  late  to  return  that  night,  consequently  I 
remained  at  Blue  HiUs,  and  returned  to  Washington 
during  the  following  day. 

That  same  evening  Alice  came.  This  fair  demoiselle, 
of  course,  was  direct  from  Dixie,  going  back  in  a  day  or 
two,  and  she  brought  information  from  Charleston  that 
fiUe'd  me  with  dismay.  My  mother  was  very  iU  in  that 
city,  was  with  Helen  at  my  uncle's  house,  and  the  physi- 
cians had  pronounced  her  recovery  doubtful  ;  still  she 
might  Uve  for  several  weeks.  AHce  had  not  seen  her, 
but  had  learned  this  report  from  a  quarter  that  left  no 
doubt  of  its  authenticity. 

I  immediately  telegraphed  to  Cassy,  and  as  soon  as 
that  duty  was  off  my  hands,  sought  Alice  in  the  dining- 
room,  to  ask  what  she  thought  of  my  joining  my  mother 
as  soon  as  possible. 

"  Are  you  asking  advice,  or  announcing  a  determina- 
tion?" 

"Announcing  a  determination,  and  inquiring  about  the 

facilities." 

"  As  to  the  facilities,  you  will  get  there  more  easHy 
than  you  will  get  back  again." 

"  That  does  not  daunt  me,  AHce  ;  will  you  give  me 
exphcit  directions  how  to  proceed  ?" 


^]00  RENSHAWE. 

"  You  may  accompany,  me  if  you  will ;  I  leave  on 
Monday  morning." 

"  Two  whole  clays !  my  heart  responds  to  all  but  the 
delay." 

"  You  will  probably,"  said  my  cousin,  "  save  yourself 
more  than  that  delay  in  the  end." 

This  was  quite  reasonable,  and  the  arrangement  was 
made. 

On  Saturday,  with  my  thoughts  full  of  my  poor  mother 
and  Helen,  I  hurried  about  as  fast  as  my  melancholy 
and  disordered  mind  would  permit,  to  get  together  the 
proper  articles  for  my  journey.  I  had  first  concluded 
some  purchases  at  a  large  dry-goods  store,  and  seated 
myself  to  rest  for  a  short  time  on  a  stool  by  the  counter, 
when  I  was  suddenly  accosted  in  a  familiar  voice,  and  on 
looking  up  discovered  that  I  had  been  addi-essed  by  my 
old  acquaintance,  Hinda  Hunter^  or,  as  matters  stood 
now,  Mrs.  Kamsay  Jones.  The  face  of  one  whom  I  had 
known  amid  scenes  so  different,  brought  up  a  kindlier 
feeling  than  might  otherwise  have  arisen  toward  one 
whose  character  I  held  in  such  contempt.  I  immediately 
offered  my  congi'atulations  on  her  marriage,  not  having 
seen  her  at  all  since  her  widowhood. 

Hinda  repressed  my  congratulations,  and,  with  syste- 
matic precision,  she  began  at  the  beginning,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  tell  me  "  all  about  it."  Those  wretches,  Go- 
dolphin  and  Judith,  had  circumvented  her  by  destroying 
her  first  husband's  will,  before  she  reached  home  on  the 
night  of  the  play  at  the  Boui'dlemes'.  She  said  she  had 
the  misery  of  seeing  them  appropriate  nearly  all  the  estate. 
She  had  a  considerable  portion  of  the  personal  property, 
after  what  was  paid  the  lawyers,  and  the  law  gave  her  a 
life  interest  in  one-third  of  ]Mi\  Hunter's  estates.  These 
estates  lay  in  the  State  of  Maine. 

Sui-prised  to  note  a  certain  tremor  in  Hinda's  voice. 


PORT  EVELYN. 


801 


and  to  see  tears  in  her  eyes,  I  propbsed  that  we  should 
leave  the  store,  and  she  led  the  way  directly  to  the  park, 
where  we   sat  down  on  a  bench,  in  the  most  secluded 
quarter,  to  continue  the  discourse.     It  was  an  hour  of  the 
day  when  very  few  were  passing,  and  no  interruption 
occuiTed  to  the  narrative.    Hinda  went  on  to  relate,  that 
after  in  part  recovering  from  the  chagrin  that  had  been 
caused  her  by  this  division  of  the  property,  she   next 
learned  that  there  had  been  a  terrible  fraeas  at  Baltimore, 
between  Mr.  Jones  and  her  nephew-in-law,    Godolphin 
Hunter,  now  a  colonel  in  the  rebel  army,  in  which  quar- 
rel that  officious  George  Berkley  was,  of  course,  mixed  up. 
The  papers  publishing  the  transaction  stated  that  the 
quarrel  was  about  Mrs.  Hunter,  and  Hinda  with  the  rest 
of  the  world  supposed  it  to  be  the  wife  of  her  nephew-in- 
law  that  was  meant,  but  to  her  great  horror,  a  letter  from 
Jones  apprised  her  that  it  was  aU  for  her  sake  the  quarrel 
had  arisen,  and  that  he  was  ill  in  the  hospital,  (all  for  her 
sake,)  and  without  a  penny  he  could  call  his  own. 

This  version  of  the  quarrel  was  a  false  one,  but  Hinda 
did  not  suspect  it.  Alarmed  by  Jones's  touching  letter, 
and  its  tremulous  chirogi-aphy,  she  immediately  left  town, 
scarcely  stopping  to  pack  a  carpet-bag,  arrived  in  Bal- 
timore,^ and  went  directly  to  the  hospital.  She  found 
Jones  convalescing,— sitting  in  a  lower  room,  one  hand 
in  a  sling,  the  other  playing  cards— three  other  youths  at 
the  card-table.  He  had  a  long  talk  with  Hinda,  re- 
presented his  mournful  case  in  a  touching  manner,  and 
offered  himself  with  his  broken  fortunes  to  the  widow  of 
the  millionaire.  Hinda  accepted  the  proposal,  mangled 
Jones  the  next  day,  and  brought  him  away  from  the 
hospital  to  take  care  of  him  tiU  his  shattered  health  was 
restored. 

"And  I've  done  nothing  but  take  care  of  him  ever 
since,  Louisa!  and  he  has  done  nothing  but  spend  my 


302  RENSHAWE. 

money  and  abuse  me  to  people.  I  warn  you,  my  dear 
Louisa,  never  maiTy !  at  least  don't  marry  for  love.  Men 
are  all  alike — all  obstinate  and  selfish.  No  human  being 
could  have  doubted  that  Jones  was  in  love  with  me  once. 
He  would  have  married  me  when  I  was  a  penniless  girl, 
but  I  really  don't  know  him  now.  All  the  money  I  had 
from  poor  old  Jonas,  has  been  spent  by  that  idle  and  ex- 
travagant fool.  This  year's  income  from  my  real-estate 
is  all  gone,  and  he  wants  me  to  sell  out  my  life-interest  in 
it.  He  says  I  can  do  it,  but  I'm  determined  I  won't  do 
that  if  he  kills  me,  and  I'm  afraid  he  will  kill  me  yet." 

Here  ]Mrs.  Jones  sobbed  almost  aloud.  I  felt  sincerely 
soiTy  for  her,  but  as  far  as  consolation  went,  was  dumb. 

"  If  you  would  but  come  home  with  me,  and  remain 
aU  night,"  she  pleaded — "  stay  a  few  days  with  me,  it 
would  be  such  a  kindness;  Jones  behaves  infinitely  better 
before  people." 

I  began  to  make  some  suggestion  embracing  the  re- 
formation of  the  individual  alluded  to,  but  ]\Ii'S.  Jones 
cut  me  short. 

"  Reformation  indeed !  what  can  you  hope  fi'om  a  man 
who  has  run  through  my  capital  in  six  months  ?  If  Jones 
had  the  wealth  of  Croesus  to-day,  he'd  be  penniless  jn  a 
year."  Another  hour  was  here  devoted  to  the  relation 
of  that  gentleman's  misdemeanors.  He  was  very  in- 
temperate; never  was  sober  a  whole  day  together;  he  had 
squandered  large  sums  of  money  at  the  gambling-table 
and  the  race-course;  associated  with  the  lowest  class  of 
men  and  women;  and  repaid  his  wife's  kindness  to  him 
by  the  basest  ingratitude,  calumniating  her  everywhere 
he  went. 

"  ^Miy  do  you  not  teU  him  that  you  wiU  leave  him,  if 
he  continues  to  behave  so  ?"  I  inquired,  my  conscience 
smiting  me  the  same  instant  for  giving  such  improper 
counsel  to  a  wife. 


PORT  EVELYN.  308 

"  Oh,  that  -would  not  alarm  him  in  the  least.  Indeed, 
he  has  the  advantage  of  me  there;  he  has  been  threaten- 
ing to  go  every  day  for  the  last  month.  All  that  keeps 
him  here  now  is  the  hoi^e  of  my  selling  my  interest  in 
those  Maine  estates.  I  know  that  as  soon  as  he  sees  that 
sale  consummated,  I  shall  never  behold  him  again.  I  am 
very  weak  and  silly  to  wish  to  see  him  at  all,  he  says  such 
inhuman  things;  accused  me  yesterday  of  having  married 
Mr.  Hunter  for  his  money;  but  as  I  could  retort  by  say- 
ing that  he  married  Mr.  Hunter's  widow  with  the  same 
object,  he  did  not  recur  to  that  subject  again." 

Finding  that  Mr.  Jones  was  too  hopeless  a  character 
to  bear  much  discussion,  I  endeavored  to  lead  my  com- 
panion's thoughts  into  another  channel,  and  in  allusion 
to  her  invitation  to  Spend  a  few  days  with  her,  I  began 
to  offer  my  excuses.  I  told  her  of  my  mother's  illness  at 
Charleston,  my  intention  of  going  South  on  the  day  fol- 
lowing, and  the  necessity  I  was  under  of  making  my  final 
preparations  on  that  evening.  During  these  explanations 
T  was  struck  by  the  look  of  interest  that  appeared  on 
Mrs.  Jones's  face,  and  then  by  the  meditative  air  and 
mechanical  attention  which  she  bestowed  on  my  con- 
cluding excuses. 

"I  don't  know,"  she  said  at  last,  "whether  to  say  it  is 
owing  to  the  fact  that  I  never  could  exist  without  a  con- 
fidante, or  to  my  conviction  that  you  are  providentially 
thrown  in  my  way  to-day,  that  I  propose  to  tell  you  a 
very  important  secret.  I  must  ask  a  few  questions  first, 
however." 

As  I  had  never  known  Hinda  to  be  without  "  a  secret," 
I  experienced  very  httle  curiosity,  and  answered  these 
questions  without  hesitation. 

"In  the  first  place,  how  do  you  suppose  I  am  hving 
■  now,  without  any  money,  and  such  a  husband  as  Jones  to 
support  ?" 


30-i:  RENSHAWE. 

"I  was  at  a  loss  to  surmise,"  said  I;  "but  I  did  not 
like  to  ask  you  such  a  question." 

"You  were  very  generous,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  with  a 
sigh.  "  I  cannot  work,  and  you  may  judge  by  my  dress 
that  I  have  nothing  to  sell.  Jones  carried  everything  to 
the  Jews — even  to  the  last  present  that  poor  old  ]Mr. 
Hunter  gave  me.  But  my  dear — now  for  my  second 
question.     "  How  are  your  pohtics?" 

"  My  pontics  !"  I  echoed  in  amazement. 

"  Yes,  my  dear;  you  know  it  is  a  sort  of  fashion  now  to 
be  disunion,  or  '  secesh,'  as  the  term  goes — at  least  it  is 
so  in  many  circles." 

"  I  do  not  belong  to  such  circles,  thank  God." 

"  Spoken  like  yourself;  but  perhaps  you  take  no  interest 
at  all  in  the  question  ?" 

"I  take  the  most  vital  interest  in  it,"  I  replied.  "  Ever 
since  the  late  battle,  my  heart  has  never  ceased  to  throb 
with  painful  anxiety  for  the  success  of  our  arms,  and  the 
supremacy  of  our  government." 

This  again  seemed  to  be  spoken  like  myself,  though 
Mrs.  Hunter  did  not  say  so.  She  glanced  around  with 
an  apprehensive  air,  and  asked  whether  I  thought  a 
private  soldier  and  nurse,  who  were  standing  by  a  baby's 
carriage  at  the  gate,  and  engaged  in  profound  discourse, 
were  near  enough  to  hear  the  communications.  Inasmuch 
as  the  baby  was  screaming  with  the  full  power  of  a  pair 
of  stout  little  lungs,  I  rephed  in  the  negative. 

In  a  lowered  tone,  and  with  a  very  confidential  air, 
Hinda  went  on  to  say  that  she  had  received  latterly  quite 
a  little  sum  of  money  for  the  performance  of  a  service  to 
the  government  of  the  United  States.  Some  information 
that  had  been  highly  necessary,  it  had  been  in  her  power 
to  afford — in  attestation  of  this,  she  produced  a  roll  of 
bills  in  a  miserable,  worn  pocket-book;  but  inasmuch  as 
these  services  were  not  unaccompanied  by  danger,  more- 


PORT  EVELYN.  305 

over  as  it  was  inevitable  tliat  Jones  should  miss  her,  if 
she  attempted  a  second  repetition,  she  was  willing  to  let 
me  take  her  place.  As  I  was  on  the  eve  of  departure  for 
the  South,  it  would  be  directly  in  my  way  to  perform  this 
service.  Hinda  owned  that  she  had  not  succeeded  re- 
markably well — she  was  no  hand  at  sketchiug  intrench- 
ments,  but  she  recollected  my  talent  for  drawing — in  fact 
everything  pointed  me  out  for  the  work.  I  could  bring 
my  information  to  her,  and  she  would  allow  me  a  per 
cent,  on  the  profits. 

I  listened  throughout  without  the  shghtest  idea  of 
entertaining  the  proposition.  Certain  arguments  hi  favor 
of  my  mission,  arose  lazily  in  my  mind;  I  recollected 
Tomhn's  remarks  on  the  duties  of  a  spy;  it  was  a  char- 
acter which  in  Cooper's  hands  was  that  of  a  hero;  an 
ill-fated  British  officer  had  coupled  the  name  with  that 
of  martyr  among  his  own  countryman,  and  was  regarded 
with  scarcely  less  esteem  by  ours.  But  these  passing 
tributes  to  Harvey  Birch  and  Major  Andre,  were  the  only 
mental  wanderings  I  indulged. 

"You  are  very  kind  in  making  me  the  offer,"  said  I; 
"  but  I  am  quite  unable  to  accej)t  it.  In  the  first  place, 
I  am  filled  with  anxieties  about  my  mother,  and  shall  go 
as  dii'ect  to  Charleston  as  possible.  Intrenchments  and 
fortifications  are  the  last  objects  which  I  shall  seek,  and 
more  than  this,  I  do  not  feel  that  a  woman  ought  to  take 
any  active  part  in  this  war,  other  than  to  alleviate  to  the 
extent  of  her  power  the  misery  it  will  cause.  If  I  thought 
otherwise,  I  have  not  the  nerve  for  such  an  errand  as 
this.  Convinced  as  I  am  that  a  citizen  of  the  United 
States  has  a  perfect  right  to  travel  to  any  part  of  the 
country,  it  is  a  right  which  I  am  now  obhged  to  regard 
as  a  favor." 

It  is  doubtful  whether  Mrs.  Jones  paid  attention 
enough  to  my  arguments  to  preserve  their  connection  ; 


306  RENSHAWE. 

and  after  some  inquiries  about  the  time  and  mode  of  my 
departui'e,  she  bade  me  farewell.  I  watched  her  retreat- 
ing form,  noted  her  weary  gait,  recalled  the  look  of  care 
that  sat  so  ill  on  her  pretty,  girlish  features,  and  searched 
my  heart  for  all  the  commiseration  that  it  would  bestow. 
The  knowledge  that  all  her  miseries  were  brought  upon 
her  by  her  own  foUy,  checked  my  sympathy  from  going 
to  undue  lengths. 

Sunday,  Ahce  was  out  again  aU  day  on  some  business 
of  which  I  was  willing  to  remain  as  ignorant  as  possible. 

Monday  morning  the  carriage  came  for  my  cousin  and 
me  at  early  dawn.  Just  as  we  were  quitting  the  house, 
there  was  a  ring  at  the  door,  and  the  familiar  vision  of 
Mrs.  Jones  apj)eared  in  the  haU.  She  exclaimed  at  her 
good  fortune  in  being  just  in  time,  and  as  Alice  was 
evidently  in  haste,  Hinda  huniedly  whispered  :  "  From 
the  war-office! — be  careful  and  cautious!"  thrust  a 
paper  in  my  pocket  and  bade  me  a  hasty  adieu. 

Of  course  I  inspected  the  document  before  we  were 
fairly  out  of  Washington.  It  said  that  Miss  Louisa 
Renshawe,  in  undertaking  the  service  of  •  a  spy,  was 
requested  to  foUow  out  instructions  "  herein  given,"  and 
would  be  entitled  to  such  and  such  emoluments.  These 
instructions  were  printed.  I  ran  over  it  aU  with  much 
curiosity. 

There  was  a  scrap  of  a  note  inclosed  by  the  volatile 
]VIi*s.  Jones  ;  remarking  that  in  procuiing  this  office  for 
her  "  dear  Louisa,"  she  would  herself  be  content  with  a 
smaU  percentage  on  the  profits.  Before  I  had  fairly  rid 
my  mind  of  IVIrs.  Jones  and  her  characteristic  offers,  the 
carriage  stopped,  and  Alice  dismissed  the  driver  and  led 
the  way  into  a  wayside  tavern,  where  quite  a  company  was 
assembled  in  the  saloon.  Alice  walked  around  shaking 
hands  with  the  several  females  composing  it,  and  as  I 
was  not  introduced,  a  ceremony  with  which  I  was  quite 


PORT  EYELYN.  307 

ready  to  dispense,  I  took  my  seat  in  a  retired  quar- 
ter. 

"  Where's  Ramorny  ?"  Alice  demanded.   • 

Ramorny  had  been  there  and  was  expected  back  every 
minute.  I  knew  him  on  his  entrance,  as  the  former  land- 
lord of  the  Seven  Horns  ;  noticed  that  his  eye  rested 
steadfastly  on  me  a  few  seconds,  but  there  was  no  sign 
of  recognition.  We  walked  down  a  narrow  pathway, 
admitting  only  two  abreast,  some  distance  in  the  rear  of 
the  hotel.  Ramorny  came  up  on  the  other  side  of  Ahce, 
who  was  walking  with  me,  and  asked  for  "  the  pass." 

AHce  presented  a  paper.     "  There  it  is  ;  read  it." » 

"  Read  it !"  echoed  Ramorny.  "  Pass  the  aunt  and  two 
cousins  of  J.  J.  Butler  !  Is  this  all  the  pass  you  have  ? 
How  many  of  us  are  going  through  ?" 

"  AM  of  us." 

Ramorny  glanced  back  at  the  follo^ving  line,  muttering 
"  two — four — six — ten  women  !  Why,  Miss  Ludlow — not 
all  going  through  on  this  pass  ?     Who  holds  it  ?" 

"I — I'm  J.  J.  Butler's  aunt,  and  you  and  Miss  Ren- 
shawe  are  my  two  cousins.  Louisa,  take  this  gentle- 
man's arm  and  go  ahead." 

I  obeyed.  My  companion  did  not  speak  till  we  reached 
the  first  gates,  except  to  wonder  how  Miss  Ludlow  was 
going  to  manage  it.  The  barges  lay  close  against  the 
banks  of  the  river,  flags  and  streamers  decorating  aU  the 
tents  stretched  along  the  sidewalks.  Ramorny  handed 
the  pass  to  a  tobacco-chewing  official  who  sat  by  the 
gateway. 

"  What  ship  ye  goen  aboard  on  ?"  he  demanded. 

"  The  Ossawattomie,"  rejoined  Ramorny. 

"  Goen  on  the  Swattomy  ?  don't  know  as  she's  in  the 
river.     Say,  Ben,  is  the  Swattomy  in  the  river  ?" 

"  Clus  by."  Ramorny  drew  back,  and  the  ladies  filed 
through. 


308  RENSHAWK 

"  Hold  on!"  exclaimed  the  soldier,  suddenly.  "  Be  all 
your  names  on  the  paper  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  Ramorny,  pulling  it  away.  "  Can't 
you  read  ?" 

The  officer  came  up  and  took  the  pass.  "  Oh,  Jerusa- 
lem !  what's  all  this  ?  This  all  the  pass  ?  Aunt  and  two 
cousins  of  J.  J.  Butler.     Where's  the  aunt  ?" 

Alice,  turning  with  a  most  winning  air,  announced  the 
relationships  severally.  She  was  the  aunt,  this  lady  was 
niece,  this  one  cousin,  that  one  uncle's  wife's  sister,  and 
so  on,  till  the  whole  bevy  had  walked  through.  The 
officer  stood  looking  first  at  the  pass  and  then  at  the 
ladies,  with  the  audible  declaration,  that  it  was  the 
"  longest  aunt  and  two  cousins  "  he  ever  had  seen  in  his 
Hfe  ;  but  at  all  events  we  were  soon  in  the  barge  and  half- 
way across  the  river.  I  could  not  helj)  expressing  to 
Ahce  my  high  admiration  of  the  manner  in  which  people 
managed  to  cross  the  lines. 

"  We're  not  across  yet,"  rejoined  my  cousin,  and  I  re- 
pressed my  raptures  till  the  transit  should  be  sui'ely 
effected.  We  were  stopped  at  another  wharf,  where  a 
change  of  boat  became  necessary,  and  another  paper  was 
presented,  with  orders  to  pass  the  same,  aunt  and  two 
cousins  of  J.  J.  Butler,  on  board  the  Ossawattomie. 
Eamorny  had  been  busy  at  the  paper  with  a  lead  pencil, 
and  the  official  who  took  it,  looked  puzzled  at  the 
chirography. 

"Aunt  and  twenty  cousins,  eh?  Don't  see  but  ten 
cousins  sir,  if  you're  the  aunt.     "^Tiar's  the  other  ten  ?" 

Ramomy  said  the  other  ten  were  coming  in  a  day  or 
two.  The  soldier  seemed  worried  to  think  that  they 
could  not  all  go  through  at  once,  but  finally  yielded  to 
let  our  divided  party  pass. 

The  Ossawattomie  was  a  Httle  black  tug-boat,  by  means 
of  which  we  were  speedily  set  on  the  opposite  shore. 

My  cousin  and  I  separated  from  the  rest  of  the  party, 


PORT  EVELYN.  ^^^ 


and  proceeded  together  to  a  viUage  not  far  from  the  shore. 
I  had  overtaxed  my  strength,  however,  fairly  gave  way, 
and  was  forced  to  detain  Alice  for  several  days  befm^  we 
proceeded.  She  woidd  not  consent  to  go  on  tiU  my 
strength  was  faii-ly  restored. 

It  was  fully  one  week  after  oixr  departure  from  Wash- 
iaHon,  that  my  cousin  and  I  renewed  onr  journey.  We 
were  supplied  each  with  a  small  black  satchel  which 
Alice  thought  would  answer  all  our  necessities,  fastened 
bv  straps  across  the  shoulder.  _ 

"In  case  we  should  be  separated,  Louisa,  she  re- 
marked at  last,  "it  will  be  well  for  you  to  have  a  few 
directions,  which  I  wiU  endeavorto  make  as  plam  as  pos- 
sible. In  the  first  place,  on  reaching  the  Southern 
pickets,  the  sentinel  will  challenge  you,  and  say.    Who 

goes  there  ? '  "  ^_ 

"I  am  to  say  '  A  friend,'  I  suppose.  _ 

"You  are  to  say,  'A  friend  without  the  countersign. 
You  will  then  be  ordered  to  await  the  approach  of  the 
officer  of  the  guard,  who  may  come  within  an  hour,  per- 
haps within  a  minute.     When  he  comes,  ask  to  see  the 

colonel." 

"  What  colonel  ?" 

"  Any  colonel.  When  you  see  him,  mention  my  name, 
say  you  are  my  cousin,  traveling  with  me,  and  wish  to 
see  me.     Then  you  will  have  no  further  trouble. 

"  Will  the  colonel  put  implicit  faith  in  my  statements  ? 

"He  will  probably  detain  you  untU  I  come.  I  sha 
inquire  after  you,  of  coui-se,  and  when  I  rejoin  you,  I  wil 
put  you  en  route  for  Charleston.     But  Itrust  we  may  not 

"'^conversation  had  taken  place  in  a  Ught  carriage, 
which  Alice  had  hired  to  convey  us  to  the  ne-t^tatiom 
As  she  was  senior  partner  in  the  enterprise,  I  had  not 
asled  a  single  question,  but  suffered  her  to  lead  the  way 
whither  she  would. 


310  RENSHAWE. 

Just  as  this  short  dialogue  had  come  to  an  end,  I  per- 
ceived, at  the  ascent  of  an  accUyity,  that  left  the  road 
open  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile,  a  party  of  men  at  full 
advance  up  the  highway. 

AHce  looked  around,  as  though  with  the  instinctive 
thought  of  concealment,  but  such  a  measure  was  im- 
practicable, and  she  drove  on  dehberately  till  we  came 
up  with  the  party  on  the  open  highway. 

We  were  immediately  called  upon  to  stop.  The  party 
was  composed  of  a  comj)any  of  soldiers,  e^idently  raw 
enough  yet  at  their  business;  but  I  could  not  have  decided 
to  which  of  the  contending  armies  they  belonged,  were  it 
not  for  a  fact  that  put  the  matter  past  conjectm-e.  Captain 
Walby — yes,  the  honorable  Horace  Edward  Livingstone 
himself — was  among  them,  bound,  and  plainly  under 
guard  as  a  prisoner. 

Alice  drew  rein.  Two  of  the  party  jumped  off  their 
horses,  one  took  ours  by  the  bit,  the  other  accosted  us. 
It  was  plain,  from  the  boisterous  actions  and  appearance 
of  the  party,  that  they  had  been  on  what  is  termed  a 
spree. 

*  Alight,  if  you  please,  ladies,"  said  that  one  of  the 
party,  who,  being  in  shoulder  straps,  had  the  principal 
mission  to  address  us.  I  obeyed  the  command,  for  it 
was  nothing  else,  but  Alice,  apparently  unmindful  of 
these  instructions,  retained  her  seat. 

"  We'll  examine  this  parcel,"  exclaipaed  the  master  of 
ceremonies,  taking  my  bag  from  my  hands  and  turning 
it  inside  out  for  the  benefit  of  the  spectators.  The  first 
things  that  appeared,  were  a  large  purse  and  a  folded 
paper.  The  officer  threw  the  pui'se  over  his  left  arm 
and  opened  the  document.  Had  he  been  quite  sober 
I  should  have  had  less  to  fear  from  this  inspection. 

"A  spy!"  he  exclaimed,  in  the  loudest  key  of  his  voice, 
thinking  probably,  if  he  thought  at  all,  that  my  compan- 


PORT  ETELTN.  311 

ion  was  in  the  secret,  and  that  his  prisoner  was  never 
to  escape  from  custody. 

"A  spy  !"  was  repeated  in  various  tones. 

"  What's  this  other  lady — she  in  the  same  category  ?" 

"I  certainly  was  not  aware,"  said  Alice,  who  was 
deadly  pale,  "  that  there  was  a  spy  in  my  company." 

At  this  juncture,  an  officer,  whose  face  at  the  first  I 
dimly  recognized,  suddenly  stepped  forward.  "  This  is 
de  young  lady  I  saw  at  de  Blue  Hills.  Miss  a — Shaker. 
When  Captain  Good  had  dis  company,  dis  lady  she  did 
help  us  out  of  Colonel  Hunter  de  rebel  offisare.  I  am 
Lieutenant  Gallorda,  Mese  Shaker." 

These  words  brought  about  a  recognition.  Gallorda 
it  was;  but  so  altered  by  a  profuse  growth  of  beard,  that 
I  scarcely  knew  him.  If  I  was  thus  enlightened,  another 
gleam  had  dawned  on  Captain  Walby's  soul. 

His  eyes  were  directed  against  my  physiognomy  with  an 
expression  more  unpleasant  than  had  ever  visited  it  from 
that  source  before. 

"  That's  it  eh  ?"  exclaimed  the  captain.  "  Shaker — 
this  name  of  Eenshawe  is  assumed  of  course.  Well, 
madam,  being  one  of  our  spies,  I'm  sorry  I've  detained 
you.  Here  you  are,  your  calling  sacred,  your  credentials 
clear.     Take  your  paper  and  your  purse  " 

A  sharp  cut  fi'om  Alice's  whip,  set  off  her  horse  at  a 
bound.  The  hold  on  the  bit  had  relaxed  as  soon  as  my 
supposed  character  was  proclaimed.  The  soldiers  stood 
staring  after  her,  but  not  one  attempted  pursuit,  which 
was  evidently  useless,  as  the  horse  was  unusually  fleet, 
and  the  next  hill  soon  hid  my  fair  cousin  from  sight. 

As  I  before  remarked.  Captain  Walby's  eyes  had  re- 
curred to  my  face  very  frequently,  animated  first  by 
recognition,  then  by  an  expression  betokening  how  little 
he  thought  of  me  and  my  mission ;  and  his  chagrin  was 
in  no  wise  rendered  less,  when  he  was  ordered  to  dismount, 


312  RENSHAWE. 

and  his  horse  tendered  me  to  facilitate  my  passage  to 
Dixie.  It  was  the  meekest-looking  nag  id  the  company, 
and  I  hesitated  not  to  accejDt  him.  I  was  now  only 
anxious  to  ride  on  after  Alice  and  explain  that  I  was  not 
a  spy,  and  this  course  I  attempted,  when  once  released 
from  my  captors,  whose  cheers  sounded  on  the  air  behind 
me  long  after  they  were  out  of  sight.  To  find  Alice, 
however,  was  not  so  easy  a  matter,  and  I  was  obliged  to 
recall  her  directions  and  assail  the  picket-guard  alone. 

I  was  LQ  no  wise  disappointed.  On  my  inter\-iew  with 
the  colonel,  who  fortunately  was  nobody  I  knew,  I  found 
Alice's  name  as  potent  as  she  had  prophesied.  I  inquired 
the  names  of  the  nearest  villages,  and  on  finding  "VMiite 
Chimneys  within  a  few  miles,  lost  no  time  in  hastening 
thither,  to  gain  fui'ther  aid  and  direction,  and  was  at 
Mi'S.  Hervey's  house  by  nightfall. 


CHAPTEK  XXXn. 


V 


DTD  not  stay  with  the  Herveys  longer  than  one 
night ;  the  next  morning  I  departed  in  style. 
I  had  left  one  trunk  there,  which,  in  the  hurry  of 
my  return  to  Washington,  I  had  been  unable  to  convey 
across  the  Hnes.  This  trunk  was  safely  deposited  on  the 
baggage-car,  myself  inside  the  train  after  an  affectionate 
farewell  taken  of  the  Herveys  at  the  White  Chimney  de- 
pot, and  by  nightfall  I  had  reached  the  world-renowned 
city  of  Kichmond. 

One  misfortune  had  befallen  me  of  quite  a  serious  na- 
ture nnder  the  circumstances.  My  pocket-book  had  been 
abstracted  by  some  light-fingered  lady  or  gentleman, 
which  I  could  not  teU,  as  several  persons  had  occupied 
the  seat  next  to  me.     This   circumstance  was  aU  the 


PORT  EM5LYN.  313 

more  provoking  as  I  had  always  boasted  that  nothing 
could  be  stolen  from  me  without  my  knowledge,  that  I 
had  no  fear  of  pick-pockets,  and  was  always  disposed  to 
hold  every  one  in  contempt  who  could  not  take  the  same 
care  of  such  property.  But  here  in  broad  daylight,  and 
I  wide  awake,  some  one  had  actually  made  off  with  mine, 
and  my  boasts  were  done. 

It  was  about  four  o'clock  in  the  afternoon;  I  was  be- 
ginning to  realize  the  unpleasantness  of  my  predicament, 
from  which  I  saw  no  way  of  escape,  and  a  sudden  shower 
coming  up  drove  me  for  shelter  to  a  fruit  and  grocery 
store  on  the  corner  of  the  street.  I  waited  there  for 
half  an  hour,  and  when  the  rain  had  ceased  lingered  to 
look  at  the  drying  sidewalks,  revolving  some  questions 
that  I  meant  to  put  to  some  'respectable  party.  In  the 
middle  of  these  ruminations  one  among  the  group  of 
negro  women  looking  over  the  fruits  displayed  in  the 
baskets  outside  the  door,  glanced  up  to  speak  to  the 
store-keeper,  and  had  just  got  as  far  as  "Massa,  how 

much   are   dese "   when   she   caught   my   eye.     She 

looked  irresolute,  turned  away,  looked  again  at  me.  It 
was  undoubtedly  she  who  had  officiated  as  house-keeper 
in  the  Seven  Horns  tavern  at  the  time  I  had  visited  it. 
The  recognition  was  mutual. 

"  Cinderella !"  I  exclaimed. 

""WTiy,  missus,"  she  ejaculated,  letting  fall  the  little 
basket  on  her  arm  in  joy  at  the  meeting.  Then  followed 
quite  a  jubilee,  in  which  I  bore  an  equal  part  to  say  the 
least,  for  I  was  overjoyed  at  the  appearance  of  a  friendly 
face  in  my  present  extremity. 

"  I  jest  stepped  out  to  do  my  marketing,"  said  Cinder- 
ella, "  which  isn't  expensive  to-night  as  my  massa  isn't  in 
to  tea,  an'  I've  nothin'much  to  pervide." 

I  waited  till  the  marketing  was  done,  and  Cinderella's 
basket  fairly  laden. 
14 


314  RENSHAWE. 

"You  may  walk  a  little  way  with  me,"  said  I,  consider- 
ing tliat  her  time  was  quite  at  her  own  disposal.  Cin- 
derella trudged  along,  all  smiles  immediately,  and  I  took 
mj  way  toward  what  seemed  to  be  the  most  frequented 
quarter  of  the  city. 

"  You  spoke  of  your  master,"  said  I,  "  Mr.  Ramomy  is 
certainly  not  in  Washington?" 

"No  missus,  I  don't  see  Massa  Ramomy  wery  often 
now.  I'se  a-libin'  now  wid  an  ole  massa  ob  mine — Mr. 
Skarfellow.  He's  a  wery  nice  man  indeed,  an'  I'se  a 
heap  sight  better  off  dan  I  was  a-tuggin'  an'  tihn'  up  at 
dem  ar  ole  Seven  Horns." 

We  had  gone  on  with  the  Seven  Horns  under  dis- 
cussion for  four  or  five  blocks,  when  I  perceived  a  fii'e 
just  ahead,  and  the  crowd,  the  usual  consequence,  was  in 
this  case  dense.  I  turned  off  at  right  angles,  Cinderella 
accompanying,  and  after  proceeding  about  three  blocks, 
perceived  a  regiment  of  newly-anived  troops  coming  up 
the  street  so  that  on  reaching  the  comer  it  was  impracti- 
cable to  cross.  I  turned  off,  again  at  right  angles,  and 
after  going  about  three  blocks  more  found  that  we  were 
in  the  midst  of  such  a  rabble  running  along  with  the 
regiment  that  I  turned  off  at  right  angles  again.  By 
this  time  I  had  described  quite  a  j)arallelogTam,  and 
was  back  again  in  the  vicinity  of  the  fire.  Matters  here 
had  become  more  complicated.  Several  carts  had  been 
stopped,  and  were  trying  to  go  down  a  side  street,  where 
they  were  all  jammed  up.  A  mass  of  people  had  come 
to  a  stand-still,  and  a  herd  of  cattle  which  were  threading 
^theu'  way  under  the  care  of  the  drover,  made  confusion 
worse  confounded.  After  being  thrown  against  Cinder- 
ella's basket,  the  fii'st  time  by  a  cow,  the  second  by  the 
pole  of  a  carriage,  after  having  been  almost  knocked 
down  once  by  a  man,  and  twice  by  a  fii'e-engine,  I  took 
refuge  with  Cinderella  upon  the  stej)s  of  a  house:  and 


PORT  EVELYN.  315 

stood  there  regarding  the  fate  of  my  hat  undergoing 
demolition  in  the  middle  of  the  street,  and  the  fire,  cat- 
tle, carriages  and  so  forth  with  equal  composure,  when 
Cinderella  recalled  me  to  my  present  dilemma  by  asking 
"  Weder  missus  still  tought  she  had  better  keep  on  in 
dis  direction  ?" 

"  AVliat  du-ection  is  it  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Puty  near  de  docks  jest  now,"  said  Cinderella;  "  as 
missus  don't  seem  to  know  much  'bout  Eichmond,  s'pose 
she  tells  me  whar  she's  a-goin'  an'  I'll  take  her  dar  my- 
self." 

"If  you  know  of  any  poor  family,"  said  I,  "living  in  a 
decent  sort  of  a  place,  who  would  shelter  me  for  one 
night,  you  can  take  me  thither.  To-morrow  I  expect  to 
go  on  to  Charleston,  traveling  night  and  day." 

"S'pose  dat  you  come  home  to-night  wid  me,"  she 
suggested.  "  My  massa's  house  isn't  sech  a  wery  gret 
ways  off,  and  Massa  Skarfeller  isn't  at  home  to-night, 
he's  gwine  out  ob  de  city,  an'  I  speck  to  be  all  alone  for 
tree  days." 

The  last  observation  led  me  to  consider  the  proposal. 
The  name  of  Scarefellow  was  not  very  inviting,  but 
neither  the  man  nor  his  name  was  anything  to  me.  Cin- 
derella's allusion  to  him  as  quite  an  old  massa  reconciled 
me  to  the  chances  of  an  accidental  encounter  with  him; 
she  had  assui'ed  me  he  would  not  be  home  in  three  days, 
and  I  decided  that  an  acceptance  of  her  invitation  would 
be  a  far  less  evil  than  a  nocturnal  wandering  through  the 
streets,  and  of  anything  else  there  was  not  the  most  dis- 
tant prospect.  I  made  four  expressive  knots  in  the 
several  corners  of  my  handkerchief,  and  puting  the  same 
on  my  head,  pursued  Cinderella  along  that  quarter  of  the 
street  which  could  deserve  the  name  of  quiet  only  by 
comparison.  We  were  soon  at  the  wharves,  whose  plank- 
ing ran  up  behind  a  sort  of  scattered  Dutch  settlement 


316  EENSHAWE 

of  red  brick  and  old  wooden  houses,  and  followed  the 
line  of  shipping  to  a  scoop  in  the  harbor  opposite  which 
was  a  row  of  more  pretentious  buildings.  In  the  centre 
of  this  row  Cinderella  opened  a  gate  which  an  iron  weight 
swung  shut  behind  us,  and  through  a  Httle  yard  con- 
ducted me  to  a  one  story  fi-ame  house  with  an  attic  on 
top,  and  a  small  extension  room  built  out  in  front.  Across 
the  fi'ont   ran   a   sign  rudely  painted  on  an  old  board: 


;       O.  SKAKEFELLOW.       BOTES  TO    LET. 

Cinderella  took  from  her  pocket  a  good-sized  key,  by 
means  of  which  she  unlocked  the  door,  and  invited  me 
to  enter.  I  found  myself  in  an  outer  compartment, 
seemingly  used  as  a  magazine  for  disabled  oars,  fishing- 
ing  nets,  harness,  and  articles  of  like  description,  all 
which  I  judge  fi'om  the  fact  that  I  endangered  my  neck 
in  stumbling  over  a  few  such  specimens  before  I  followed 
Cinderella  into  the  inner  room,  where  soon,  with  the  aid 
of  a  match  and  a  candle,  she  threw  some  light  upon  the 
subject.  It  was  a  good-sized  room,  furnished  with  a 
stout  rag  cai'pet  and  a  cooking  stove  before  the  bare  black 
chimney,  a  rough  table,  three  or  four  chairs,  and  the 
walls  were  decorated  by  several  coarse  prints  of  madon- 
nas, which  led  me  to  ask  if  !Mr.  ScarefeUow  were  a  Eoman 
Catholic. 

"  He !  he !"  laughed  Cinderella,  evidently  finding  the 
question  quite  amusing.  "No,  missus,  he  isn't,  nor  any- 
ting  else,  I  reckon.  I  bought  dese  yer  little  picters  at  an 
auction  in  a  shanty,  yesterday.  No,  no;  dey  ain't  none 
of  de  folks  yere's  got  much  religion;  but  I  tink  Massa 
Scarefeller's  about  de  best  uv  'em." 

"  Folks !  More  jDCople  than  you  and  your  master  in 
the  place  ?"  I  exclaimed. 


PORT  EVELYN.  817 

Cinderella  was  quite  embarrassed,  "  Well,  dars  folks 
comes  sometimes — comes  to  see  Mas'r  SkarfcUer." 

Cinderella  now  changed  the  conversation  by  conduct- 
ing me  up  the  stairs,  which  were  objects  that  had  en- 
gaged my  attention  on  my  entrance,  though  not  noted 
till  now  in  the  catalogue — said  stairs  being  in  reahty  a 
step  ladder  set  against  the  side  of  the  wall,  carpeted  by 
a  strip  of  ingrain,  and  balustered  by  a  rope. 

Cinderella  ushered  me  into  a  barren  compartment 
above.  Here,  tired  and  disheartened,  I  took  off  my 
satchel,  whose  strap  had  not  parted  company  with  my 
shoulder  that  day,  and  proceeded  to  adjust  my  disor- 
dered dress,  while  she  went  down  to  prepare  supper.  I 
was  in  that  state  of  mind  that  bids  to-morrow  take  care 
of  itself,  and  sank  wearily  down  by  the  window,  pulled 
aside  the  ragged  curtain,  and  looked  out  on  the  little 
yard  by  which  I  had  entered.  As  there  were  but  few 
buildings  across  the  way,  there  was  little  to  obstruct  my 
view  of  that  segment  of  the  harbor  washing  the  shore  at 
a  short  distance  from  the  opposite  sidewalk.  The  stars 
were  just  appearing  in  the  sky,  and  their  Hght  was 
reflected  in  the  waves  of  the  river,  disturbed  only  by 
a  few  passing  oars,  for  the  bustle  of  the  day  was  over. 
Before  I  had  been  many  minutes  at  the  window,  a  shal- 
lop, guided  by  a  single  pah'  of  oars,  though  two  men 
were  seated  within  it,  ghded  up  the  hne  of  sloops  and 
other  vessels  on  the  shore,  and  ran  upon  the  shoals.  The 
two  occupants  of  the  boat  conversed  a  few  moments, 
when  one  moved  off  at  a  rapid  pace  along  the  wharves, 
where  his  form  was  shortly  lost  among  the  shipping. 
The  other  waited  to  fasten  the  boat.  He  seemed  to  find 
some  difaculty  m  selecting  a  mooring,  and  having  at 
length  secured  the  vessel  to  a  stake  that  suited  his  pur- 
pose, came  up  with  dehberate  step  to  the  quarter  where 
the  stone  pavement  gave  the  first  appearance  of  a  side-walk. 


318  RENSHAWK 

Of  course,  in  the  distance  and  gathering  darkness,  the 
features  of  the  pedestnan  were  not  distinguishable, 
there  was,  however,  a  certain  freedom  in  his  air,  and  an 
elegance  attaching  to  his  figure,  on  which  I  bestowed  a 
passing  admiration;  for  I  supposed  he  would  soon  disap- 
pear fi'om  my  sight.  But,  on  the  contrary,  he  followed, 
fi'om  the  corner,  a  diverging  Hne  across  the  street,  whose 
terminating  line  could  be  at  this  gate  alone.  I  was  not 
a  little  concerned  when  this  indication  was  confirmed. 
The  gate  swung  shut.  The  stranger  had  entered,  and  was 
coming  up  the  short  walk  to  the  outer  shed. 

I  ran  to  the  head  of  the  step-ladder  with  undefined 
sensation,  called  to  Cinderella  that  somebody  was  com- 
ing to  see  Mr.  Scarefellow,  and  bade  her  not  to  mention 
my  name,  a  charge  which,  on  farther  reflection,  I  was 
sure  she  would  obey.  Cinderella  hastened  to  tie  on  an 
apron,  and  adjust  her  tiu'ban,  at  the  same  moment  that  a 
confused  trampling  sounded  in  the  outer  room. 

"  What's  the  door  locked  for  ?"  called  a  voice,  after  a 
severe  shake  on  the  portal.     "  Cinderella !" 

"  Oh,  de  goodness  sakes !  ^\Tiat  shall  I  do  ?"  exclaimed 
Cinderella  to  herseK,  in  tones  of  consternation.  "  Wait 
a  minute,  massa,"  she  called  aloud.     "  Let  you  right  in." 

Cinderella  drew  the  bolt  of  the  inner  door,  and  while 
I  stood  shivering  with  apprehension  at  the  head  of  the 
step-ladder,  and  wishing  there  were  some  other  outlet  to 
the  abode,  the  new-comer  stalked  leisurely  in,  called  for 
his  slippers,  and  ordered  supper  at  once.  With  a  quak- 
ing soul  I  noticed  the  dim  outline  of  his  back,  turned 
towards  the  step-ladder,  and  the  gentle  aroma  of  a  cigar 
was  next  perceptible. 

"  Wus  jest  a-buildin'  de  fire  as  you  cum,  mas'r  Scare- 
feller,"  said  Cinderella,  apologetically,  "  but  dar  ain't 
notki'  much  for  tea.  Tink  it  would  be  nice  to  hev  some 
Httle  fishes,  don't  you  ?" 


PORT  EVELYN.  819 

Her  master  replied  by  an  affirmative  ejaculation.  Cin- 
derella proceeded. 

"  Dar's  notin'  nicer  dan  yer  little  trouts.  Little  trouts 
is  nice  now  in  de  market.  S'pose  you  likes  'em,  does  yer, 
massa?" 

''Yes." 

"  Better  step  out  an'  git  some,  eh?" 

"  You  may  go  if  you  like." 

Cinderella  bustled  about  uneasily.  "  Ain't  you  a-goin' 
out  agin,  massa,  anywhars  ?" 

"  No." 

Cinderella  hauled  a  table,  flourished  a  cloth,  and  rattled 
tea-cups  energetically.  After  several  attempts  at  speak- 
ing, she  said,  with  some  difficulty  of  articulation,  "  Mas'r 
SkarfeUow,  I've  done  somethin'  very  wrong  since  you've 
been  gone." 

"  It  would  be  something  quite  unusual  if  you  had  not," 
replied  Mr.  Scarefellow,  in  better  language  than  the 
spelling  of  his  advertisement-board  would  have  led  me  to 
expect. 

Cinderella  chuckled.  "  Dat's  so — but  dis  is  little  extra. 
Oh,  massa,  s'pect  you'll  be  awful  mad." 

"  WeU,  out  with  it.     Can't  you  speak  ?' 

Cinderella  seemed  to  find  some  difficulty  in  speaking. 
"  Well,  mas'r,  dar's  a  lady  here." 

"  A  black  woman  ?" 

"  No,  real  white  lady,"  said  Cinderella,  growing  bold, 
now  that  the  ice  was  broken.  "  She's  up  stairs  in  your 
room." 

"  The  deuce  she  is !  What  made  you  take  her  up  in 
my  room  ?" 

"  'Cause  hadn't  nowhar's  else  to  take  her." 

"  What  did  she  come  here  at  all  for  ?" 

"  'Cause  hadn't  nowhar's  else  to  cum  to,"  hallooed  Cin- 
derella, who,  right  or  wrong,  was  determined  to  give  her 


320  RENSHAWE. 

master  as  good  as  he  sent.  "  De  lady  isn't  very  well. 
She  lost  all  her  money  on  de  cars.  She  hadn't  nowhar's 
to  go.  She  didn't  know  nobody  in  Eichmond.  I  seed 
her  up  in  Jersey.  Know'd  she  was  a  lady  well 
'nough." 

"  ^Miat's  her  name  ?" 
"Dat's  mor'n  I  know,  massa." 

"  Well,  yon  ought  not  to  vouch  for  people  imtil  you 
know  as  much  as  that,  at  least.  Now,  then,  I  must  say 
it's  a  devilish  cool  piece  of  business,  and  you  must  not  do 
such  a  thing  again." 

"  I  didn't  s'pect  you  home,  massa." 
"  I  know  you  didn't.      That  makes  it  all  the   worse. 
Have  you  ever  known  Mr.  Ramomy  or  me  to  incite  a 
woman  into  this  house,  or  a  man  either,  who  didn't  come 
after  boats?" 
"  No,  massa." 

"Well,  then,  don't  do  such  a  thing  again." 
"  I  won't,  massa.     I'll  go  up  Aow  and  tell  her  you've 
cum,  an'  she'd  better  go." 

"  No.  You  need  not  do  that.  I  won't  turn  anybody 
out  doors  who  is  so  anxious  to  come  in  as  the  female 
must  be  if  she  is  ill,  and  has  lost  her  pocket-book.  Now, 
then,  just  get  tea  in  a  huny.  I've  had  nothing  to  eat 
since  four  o'clock  this  morning." 

The  deep,  palatal  tone  of  ^Ir.  Scarfellow's  voice  was 
very  famlHar,  but  I  had  not  ventured  to  trust  my  ears 
unsupj)orted  by  my  eyes,  and  now  I  came  hui'riedly  down 
the  step-ladder.  No  fai'ther  confirmation  was  needed.  I 
could  scarcely  ejaculate,  "^Ii\  Tomlin." 

"Miss  Renshawe!  Good  heavens!"  It  was  difficult 
to  say  which  was  the  more  surprised,  or  the  more  de- 
hghted.  Of  the  first  hurried  questions  and  answers,  my 
mind  was  too  disordered  for  retention.  I  was  soon  seated 
at  the  fireside,  my  old  acquaintance  opposite,  and  recount- 


PORT   EVELYN.  821 

ing  rapidly  all  my  woes  and  adventures  for  the  last  few 
days.     Tomlin  listened  in  rapt  attention. 

"  You  must  not  think  of  leaving  for  Charleston  by  the 
route  you  propose,"  said  he,  when  I  had  concluded. 
"  For  the  next  day  or  two  your  only  safety  Hes  in  follow- 
ing my  counsel." 

"  What  danger  can  I  encounter  ?"  I  asked. 

"  You  say  that  Alice  Ludlow  heard  Gallorda  proclaim 
you  a  Union  spy  ?  In  that  case  you  have  escaped  very 
well  until  the  accident  that  brought  you  here,  and  you 
must  not  tempt  Providence  fui^ther !  If  you  attempt  to 
go  to  Charleston  or  to  leave  this  place  openly,  you  will 
find  your  way  at  once  blocked.  You  must  avoid  the  rail- 
road depots  like  a  pestilence,  if  you  would  escape  arrest." 

Further  discourse  was  postponed  till  after  supper,  and 
it  grew  so  absorbing  as  to  keep  us  in  conversation  till 
long  after  midnight.  I  had  forgotten  my  weariness  quite 
in  the  reunion,  and  was  relieved  of  my  recent  distress 
when  new  plans  had  been  sketched,  and  a  new  course 
decided  on.  Tomlin  proposed,  and  I  adopted  his  propo- 
sitions without  cavil.  He  said  that  he  was  about  to  leave 
Richmond  on  the  following  day  by  water.  He  would 
bring  me  to  a  point  whence  I  could  pursue  my  way  to 
Charleston  unimpeded. 

"  Now,  then,"  said  I,  when  the  final  arrangements  had 
been  concluded,  "  I  am  without  finances,  and  must  ask 
for  a  loan." 

Tomlin's  face  illumined.  "  As  long  as  I  have  a  crust, 
you  know  who  will  divide  w^ith  you,"  was  his  reply.  He 
turned  the  oil  lamp  to  a  higher  blaze,  emptied  a  purse  of 
its  silver,  and  a  pocket-book  of  its  bank  notes,  counted 
them  over  hastUy,  and  handed  it  all  to  me. 

"  But  this  is  not  dividing,"  said  I.     "  It  is  giving  me  all." 

"No.     I  can  get  more  to-morrow.     There  ishttle  more 
than  enough  there  to  take  you  to  Charleston." 
14* 


322  eenshatvt:. 

There  were  nearly  fifty  dollars.  I  knew  it  was  all  he 
had,  and  was  not  so  sure  that  he  could  get  more  on  the 
morrow;  but  TomHn  would  not  hear  to  any  refusal. 

Tomlin  advised  me  against  making  any  effort  whatever 
to  take  my  trunk.  He  thought  I  might  be  thankful  to 
make  good  my  escape.  I  acquiesced  in  the  opinion  at 
last,  securing  the  check,  that  I  might,  at  some  futui'e  day, 
recover  my  property  from  the  express  office,  and  made  up 
my  mind  to  depart,  with  my  satchel  as  my  only  baggage, 
fi'om  Richmond. 


CHAPTER  XXXm. 


XE  incident  of  our  sail  down  the  river  must  be 
detailed.  TomHn  entered  the  cabin  of  the  boat 
when  we  had  been  an  hour  under  way,  and  in- 
quired: "Did  you  destroy  that  paper  that  Gallorda  in- 
spected, when  you  came  across  the  border  ?" 

"No,  not  yet." 

"  Do  it  now  then ;  it  is  a  very  dangerous  thing  for  you 
to  carry." 

I  opened  the  satchel,  and  took  out  carefully  all  the 
contents.     No  paper  was  there. 

"  Lost !"  suggested  my  companion. 

"  Mr.  Tomlin,"  said  I,  "  that  paper  is  in  my  trunk  in 
Richmond.  I  put  it  in  it  a  day  or  two  ago,  and  forgot 
to  take  it  out  again." 

Tomhn  looked  a  little  grave,  but  finally  decided  to 
reassure  me,  by  saying  that  there  might  be  no  danger  in 
leading  it  there.  The  trunk  might  not  be  molested.  I 
asked  if  he  thought  it  would  be  well  to  go  back  in  quest 
of  it;  and  produced  my  ticket  for  its  safe  keeping. 

Tomlin  smiled,  advised  me   not   to  risk  anything  to 


PORT  EVELYN.  323 

keep  the  ticket;  probably  I  would  not  want  it  till  the  war 
was  over  and  the  matter  was  laid  at  rest. 

I  parted  from  Tomlin  with  sadness  of  heart;  he  fur- 
nished me  with  full  directions  how  to  proceed,  with  the 
most  cheering  assurances,  charging  me  to  repress  my 
anxiety  to  hear  from  my  mother  till  I  reached  Suffolk, 
whence  I  might  telegraph  in  safety,  and  after  seeing  me 
en  route  for  that  place,  and  regretting  that  I  was  not  ac- 
companying him  to  the  North,  he  bade  me  farewell. 

At  Suffolk,  I  telegraphed  to  Charleston.  The  reply 
came  from  one  of  my  unknown  relatives,  and  contained 
the  following  announcement :  "  Mrs.  Eenshawe  is  well. 
Left  Charleston  with  Helen  two  weeks  since." 


CHAPTER  XXXrV. 


Misdirected  strength  mil  often  show  itself  like  weakness, 

Only  a  Wojian's  Heart. 

5ONE  but  those  who  have  suffered  from  anxiety 
like  that  which  this  message  reUeved,  will  com- 
prehend how  speedily  the  intelligence  revived  my 
courage.  My  mother  was  well,  and  as  she  had  been  two 
weeks  away  from  Charleston,  was  perhaps  at  home.  My 
only  thought  now  was  how  to  get  back  myself. 

Near  the  point  where  I  had  crossed  the  lines  with 
Alice,  I  expected  to  make  my  way  back  with  httle  diffi- 
culty. After  several  days  spent  at  Suffolk,  for  the  sole 
purpose  of  recruiting  my  wasted  strength,  I  set  out  again 
for  the  North,  a  bourne  which  I  longed  from  my  very 
soul  to  reach. 

It  was  about  ten  o'clock  on  a  Monday  morning,  the 
fall  of  1861,  I  was  on  board  one  of  the  cars  of  a  very  long 
rain,    whose   course    was  generally  northward.     I  had 


324  RENSHAWE. 

been  traveling  for  about  five  hours,  my  inseparable 
satchel  firmly  clasped  to  my  side,  and  my  eyes  regaled 
by  glimpses  of  scenery  apparent  from  the  banks  on  which 
the  train  occasionally  ran.  A  company  of  soldiers  was 
on  board,  as  I  became  aware  by  seeing  several  of  them 
slipping  on  and  off  at  the  stations. 

The  door  of  our  car  was  opened  suddenly  by  an  officer, 
whom  I  recognized  in  unspeakable  consternation !  Caj)- 
tain  Walby!  I  half  arose  from  my  seat;  but  too  late  for 
escape — he  had  seen  me;  his  look  of  triumphant  exulta- 
tion left  that  past  a  doubt.  With  a  leisui-ely  step,  as 
though  to  lengthen  out  the  torture,  he  was  coming 
toward  me. 

The  lady  at  the  outside  of  the  seat  was  suddenly 
thrown  against  me  at  that  moment,  and  I  against  the 
window.  We  had  hardly  exchanged  a  "  beg  your 
pardon,"  when  I  went  as  forcibly  in  the  other  direction 
against  the  lady.  The  next  thing  I  remember  was  a 
sudden  flying  together  of  the  backs  of  the  seats — a  crash 
in  front,  screams,  cries,  exclamations,  great  excitement — 
car  slanting  and  stationary  on  the  bank,  and  eveiybody 
off  with  a  rush.  I  followed  the  crowd  as  soon  as  suffi- 
ciently recovered  to  do  so.  The  engine  had  run  off  the 
track  with  three  cars,  which  had  sustained  the  principal 
damage.  The  accident  was  a  serious  one,  although  the 
conductor  tried  to  allay  the  excitement  of  the  passengers 
by  saying  that  he  had  seen  worse  ones. 

In  the  midst  of  a  commotion  so  occasioned,  I  had 
forgotten  all  about  Caj^tain  Walby,  who  was  certainly 
quite  oblivious  of  me.  I  was  first  recalled  to  the  know- 
ledge of  his  existence,  by  perceiving  him  engrossed 
around  the  debris  of  a  smashed-up  car,  from  which  the 
brakeman  and  passengers  were  extricating  several  injured 
soldiers,  and  as  I  saw  that  no  earthly  advantage  could 
acci-ue  to  me  or  any  of  n^y  fellow-creatui-es  by  my  linger- 


POBT  EVELYN.  ^25 


ing  in  that  hostile  vicinity,  I  drew  up  my  shawl  about 
my  shoulders,  and,  regardless  of  certain  bruises,  of  which 
I  was  conscious  as  soon  as  I  got  in  motion,  I  walked 
away  on  the  track  as  fast  as  I  could  to  the  next  station 

It  was  not  more  than  a  mile  before  me.  Everybody 
there  was  talking  about  the  accident  in  so  much  excite- 
ment, that  I  could  hardly  gain  any  attention;  inasmuch 
as  I  did  not  proclaim  my  late  journeying  on  the  cars.  I 
lingered  there  hardly  long  enough  to  learn  where  I  was, 
and  heard,  with  a  thrill  of  exultation,  that  I  was  little 
more  than  twelve  miles  fi'om  an  important  town,  th^n  oc- 
cupied by  the  Union  army. 

Trembhng  with  hope,  and  not  daring  to  put  a  smgle 
question  that  might  compromise  success,  I  walked  off  to 
the  northward.  I  saw  no  reason  why  my  progress  to  the 
^oal  I  sought  to  reach  need  be  impeded.  With  Captain 
Walby,  my  greatest  risk  was  evaded.  I  did  not  think 
any  obstacle  to  my  course  would  now  be  insurmount- 

able.  „         T  1      • 

I  was  soon  worn  and  tired  with  the  walk,  and  havmg 
reached  a  quiet  nook  in  the  woods,  I  sat  down  to  ponder 
my  chances  of  escape,  and  find  a  short  rest.  I  had  ]ust 
emptied  the  dust  from  my  boots,  and  cooled  my  temples 
at  a  spring,  when  a  sound  of  human  voices  warned  me 
that  I  could  not  remain  long  unmolested;  and  I  plunged 
into  the  adjacent  bushes,  where  I  waited,  scarcely  danng 
to  breathe,  till  the  train  should  pass  by. 

It  was  six  cannons  with  mud-laden  wheels,  drawn  by 
powerful  beasts  of  burden,  and  escorted  by  a  small  party 
of  soldiers.  On  the  mound  which  I  had  just  quitted 
they  stopped,  and  a  consultation  ensued  to  which  I  was 
an  interested  listener. 

"It  won't  never  do,  Jeems,"  said  one;  "bosses  caen  t 
never  tote  these  yer  guns  up  the  hill  to  the^  camp 
to-night.     Mud  was  nation  thick  in  the  holler,  an  ef  we 


826  KENSHAWE. 

get  stuck  in  tlie  bogs  up  yunder,  it'll  take  all  the  critturs 
on  airth  to  haul  us  out" 

"  Well,  leave  the  nags  yere,  an'  go  arter  more  critturs," 
responded  another;  "  take  a  dozen  apiece  an'  we'll  git  the 
guns  up  the  hill  right  smart." 

This  proposition  was  assented  to  ;  after  tying  the 
horses  to  the  neighboring  trees,  the  party  struck  off  in 
the  direction  of  the  camp. 

It  was  a  still  autumn  day.  The  foliage  of  the  forest 
had  put  on  hues  of  red  and  gold — the  declining  sun  was 
a  fiery  ball  in  the  atmospheric  haze,  and  the  moon  had 
been  visible  since  midday  in  the  heavens.  I  knew  the 
soldiers  would  not  return  under  an  hour,  and  emerging 
from  my  concealment,  I  began  to  look  about  leisurely  on 
the  surroundings. 

The  cannons  belonged  to  the  United  States,  as  I  saw 
by  their  labels.  U.  S.  was  on  the  harness  of  the  horses; 
it  was  clearly  all  the  stolen  property  of  the  Government. 
Dangerous  as  was  my  own  position,  I  could  not  see  this 
without  a  transient  emotion  of  indignation.  I  looked 
again  at  the  sky — adown  the  A'alley — on  the  hills  toward 
which  the  sun  was  tending.  Westward,  I  knew,  lay  the 
rebel  encampment;  eastward,  through  a  road  filled 
with  enemies,  lay  my  route  home.  I  was  all  alone ;  there 
was  nothing  human  near.  With  resolute  hands  I  began 
to  untie  the  horses. 

They  were  soon  all  at  Hberty,  their  heads  directed 
towards  the  east. 

It  took  me  some  time  to  complete  these  arrangements, 
notwithstanding  that  the  animals  moved  with  all  the 
docility  of  thoroughly  trained  artillery  horses,  but  at 
last  the  cannons,  with  the  caissons,  of  which  last  there 
were  only  t^^o,  stood  in  Indian  file  in  the  road. 

This  was  all  done,  and  no  one  had  come;  and  mount- 
ing the   foremost   cannon.   I   applied  the  whip  to  the 


PORT  EVELYN. 


327 


horses  and  gave  them  the  rein.  They  moved  at  a  lagging 
gait  and  I  was  oftentimes  tempted  to  abandon  the 
enterprise  I  had  undertaken;  but  when  it  grew  after 
sunset,  and  I  fouad  I  was  a  considerable  distance  from 
the  camp,  and  still  unmolested,  my  hopes  grew  stronger, 
.  and  I  calculated  to  make  my  way  out  of  the  enemies' 
ground  before  daybreak. 

.   On  one  hill  the  straps  gave  way  in  the  middle  of  the 
train,  dividing  a  gun-carriage  from  the  horses  behind  it, 
and  it  cost  me  no  little  time  and  trouble  to  repair  the 
deficiency.     Coming  through  the  forest,  every  wheel  on 
one  side  sank  in  a  rut  nearly  to  the  hub,  causing  a  great 
commotion  among  the  horses,  as  they  were  successively 
taxed  to  jerk  out  their  burdens.     I  watched  this  process 
with  anxiety;  the  last  wheel  fairly  gave  way,  and  the  dis- 
abled gun-carriage   anchored  the   whole    train    in  the 
middle  of  the  road. 

Nothing  could  be  done  but  to  leave  it;  I  detached  the 
horses  and  we  moved  on,  thankful  that  I  had  been 
obhged  to  sacrifice  no  more  than  one  gun.  It  was  grow- 
ing quite  dark;  I  was  forced  to  proceed  with  more  caution, 
and  it  cost  me  no  little  trouble  to  avoid  the  ruts  in  the 

0  road. 

I  was  stiU  pursuing  a  circuitous  route  through  the 
forest,  and  it  was  full  two  hours  after  sunset,  when  a 
noise 'like  the  trampling  of  hoofs  alarmed  me.  I  im- 
mediately stopped  my  own  team,  hoping  to  he  concealed 
in  the  gloom  until  the  approaching  party  had  passed 
by.  The  hope  was  vain;  an  unlucky  snort  fi'om  one  of 
the  horses  revealed  our  vicinity.  I  made  an  attempt  to 
escape  with  those  that  had  drawn  the  broken  guncar- 
riage,  but  it  was  too  late. 

-  Here;  come  up  with  the  lanterns,"  shouted  one  of  the 
party,  the  dim  outline  of  whose  figures  appeared  in  the 
darkness.    "  We'U  find  out  what  team  this  is.   Why  laws; 


328  RENSHAWE. 

there  s  a  hull  drove.  Fetch  the  light,  and  be  quick. 
Yours  respectfully,  Good." 

This  peroration,  conjuring  up  reminiscences  of  Blue 
Hi  Us,  Kocky  Cross,  and  Caney  Fork  in  old  Maryland, 
brought  some  hope  of  deliverance.  I  pressed  hastily 
forward,  as  the  lights  were  brought  up,  and  fell  on  my 
face. 

"Oh  !"  Good  drew  out  the  ejaculation  to  the  utmost 
power  of  extension,  roUing  a  quid  of  tobacco  reflectively 
in  his  cheek.  "  Methinks  I've  seen  youi'  face  before — 
Shakespeare !  Well,  wait  here  boys  till  the  rest  of  the 
party  come  up.  Tou  ain't  alone  here  ma'am,  with  so 
much  gun." 

I  did  not  answer.  A  dim  recollection  flashed  upon  me 
that  Good  had  deserted  fi'om  the  Federal  army,  and 
joined  the  rebels.  I  felt  that  I  had  now  to  deal  with 
that  most  despicable  of  all  characters,  a  traitor  to  the 
flag  he  had  sworn  to  protect;  the  dog  among  wolves. 

As  they  came  in  sight  of  the  guns  one  after  another, 
questions  were  put  to  me  as  to  where  they  came  from; 
where  I  was  going  with  them;  whose  they  were;  et 
cetera. 

To  all  this,  I  made  no  response.  Good  grew  irate. 
He  descended  from  his  horse  and  ai)proached  me  with  a 
flourish  of  the  sword,  demanding  how  far  I  had  come 
with  those  cannon,  and  whither  I  was  bound  with  them. 
As  I  was  still  speechless,  he  thundered  the  question  in 
my  ear;  finding  that  he  forced  no  answer,  he  threw  me 
with  violence  on  the  ground. 

I  was  not  stunned  nor  at  all  injured,  and  rose  amid 
the  murmurs  of  the  soldiers,  dii'ected  against  the  un- 
manliness  of  the  officer.  A  severe  rebuke  was  uttered 
by  one,  in  whose  mouth  it  seemed  to  carry  authority,  and 
while  Good  was  defending  himself,  a  reinforcement  to 
the  party  came  up  from  behind. 


PORT  EVELYN.  S29 

"Here  comes  tlie  colonel!"  exclaimed  several  of  my 
captors.  The  lanterns  were  elevated,  and  voices  raised  in 
greeting.  "  Hallo,  colonel,  we've  captured  five  cannons, 
with  these  teams. 

"  How  many  in  charge  ?"  asked  a  voice  which  thrilled 
through  my  every  nerve,  as  I  recognized  it.  It  was 
Hunter's.  "  One,"  replied  Good,  with  an  uneasy  laugh. 
"  Yes,  sir,  one,"  said  an  out-spoken  officer,  "  who  has 
just  been  knocked  down  by  Captain  Good  without  pro- 
vocation." 

"For  shame,  sir!"  said  Hunter,  sharply.  "A  pris- 
oner is  sacred." 

Good  began  to  apologize  volubly,  but  Hunter  cut  him 
short. 

"A  man  who  insults  a  prisoner  is  a  coward.  That's 
enough,  sir— fall  back.  Corporal,  find  the  man  a  horse, 
and  bring  him  in  with  your  guard," 

"  Man !"  exclaimed  the  corporal.     "  It's  a  woman."     . 

"  A  woman !"  repeated  Hunter  in  indescribable  tones. 

"Yes,  colonel,"  said  Good  in  the  most  subdued  and 

meek  of  voices.     "  Her  name  is  Shaker.     I  met  her  once 

in  Maryland." 

"Very  well— bring  her  with  the  guns,"  rejoined  the 
colonel,  and  to  my  great  relief  he  rode  on  without 
having  seen  me.  Finding  that  I  was  plunging  deeper 
and  deeper  in  dilemmas,  my  chief  concern  was  to 
keep  as  quiet  as  I  could,  so  I  availed  myself  of  the  horse 
brought  by  corporal,  and  moved  on  in  the  rear  of  the 
party. 

It  was  a  fatiguing  night  for  me.  The  column,  guns, 
and  aU  were  in  motion  tiU  daybreak.  As  soon  as  the 
light  broke  over  the  hills,  I  discovered  that  I  was  mov- 
ing in  the  rear  of  a  larger  body  of  men  than  I  had  sus- 
pected from  the  noiselessness  and  celerity  of  their  move- 
ments.    A  fresh  breeze  was  blowing  up,  and  the  sun  was 


330  RENSHAWE. 

just  breaking  in  full  glory  over  the  mountains  as  we  rode 
upon  an  acclivity  where  the  waving  banners  betokened 
the  close  vicinity  of  a  town  under  Confederate  rule. 

"  ^Miere  are  we  now  ?"  I  asked  of  my  escort. 

"  This  is  Port  Evelyn,  madam." 

"  Is  it  Colonel  Hunter's  head-quarters  ?" 

"  Don't  know  as  it's  anybody's  much.  Colonel  Hun- 
ter's here,  maybe — maybe  not.     He  won't  be  here  long." 

I  asked  no  further  questions.  The  termination  of  our 
long  night's  journey  had  come,  and  I  was  shut  up  under 
close  guard  for  the  day. 


CHAPTER  XXXV. 


§ 


N  awaking  from  a  deep  sleep  about  the  middle  of 
the  day,  I  was  so  far  recovered  fi'om  my  fatigue 
that  I  at  once  set  about  explaining  my  situation.  I 
was  confined  in  the  ruins  of  a  Roman  Catholic  church,  the 
body  of  which  had  been  destroyed  by  fire.  What  was 
left  of  the  pews  and  chancel  had  been  used  by  the  sol- 
diers to  stable  their  horses  ;  the  vestry-room  remained 
intact,  except  that  the  walls  were  blackened  by  the 
smoke,  and  it  was  here  that  I  was  kept  under  lock  and 
key.  From  the  windows  there  was  no  chance  of  escape, 
as  a  high  wall,  erected  on  the  outside,  not  only  debarred 
egress,  but  prevented  a  view  of  anything  without,  and  to 
a  great  extent  excluded  the  light  of  day.  AH  doors  were 
secured  with  the  exception  of  one  that  led  to  the  belfiy, 
which,  contrary  to  the  usual  custom,  was  placed  above 
the  vestry-room  of  the  chui'ch.  I  ascended  first,  by  a 
dilapidated  stair-case,  next  by  a  step-ladder  into  this 
compartment.     The   steeple   had  fallen,   and  from  the 


POET  EVELYN.  831 

turret  I  emerged  into  the  ox^en  daylight,  whence  I  could 
command  a  prospect  of  the  country. 

The  view  to  the  North  was  shut  off  by  a  range  of  hills 
running  down  westward,  till  their  pinnacles  were  lost  in 
the  distance.  Port  Evelyn,  a  town  not  remarkable  for 
its  size  or  beauty,  lay  to  the  East,  and  was  situated  on 
the  curve  of  a  river  seemingly  turned  out  of  its  course  by 
a  mountain  on  the  opposite  shore.  Southward  lay  a 
section  of  country  wearing  that  air  of  desolation  too 
frequently  accompanying  the  march  of  an  army,  which 
he  who  has  once  seen  can  never  mistake.  Fields  laid 
waste  without  the  scythe,  harvests  brought  low  without 
the  sickle,  trampled  grain  and  leveled  fences,  house, 
cottages  and  barns  in  ruins — these  were  everywhere — 
ravages  by  another  hand  than  that  of  Time. 

At  Port  Evelyn  itself,  all  was  in  keeping.  Iron-works, 
mill  and  manufactory,  all  were  still.  One  building  was 
prominent  over  all.  This  was  a  substantial  house  of 
stone,  and  bearing  those  indications  which  mark  the 
owner  a  man  of  opulence  and  taste.  The  main  building 
was  square,  furnished  with  balconies,  awnings,  arches 
and  a  white  railing  running  round  the  roof  where  the 
Confederate  flag  was  conspicuous.  The  wings,  which 
were  many,  took  rambling  and  disorderly  forms.  The 
mansion  stood  near  the  river  as  well  as  I  could  deter- 
mine, and  when  I  marked  the  number  of  soldiers,  glanc- 
ing by  the  windows,  grouped  on  the  balconies,  and  pass- 
ing back  and  forth  from  the  out  buildings,  I  decided  that 
the  most  favored  place  had  been  chosen  for  the  head- 
quarters. 

As  it  was  the  most  interesting  spot  to  which  I  had 
had  access  yet,  I  remained  in  the  belfry  watching  the 
movement  of  the  soldiers  at  the  distant  building  while 
the  daylight  lasted.  A  short  time  after  sunset,  as  I  be- 
gan to  contemplate  an  abandonment  of  my  post,  some 


832  RENSHAWE. 

loud  voices  below  made  me  aware  that  my  guards  wanted 
to  know  why  the  devil  I  had  chmbed  up  there — didn't  I 
know  they  would  be  in  a  peck  of  trouble  if  I  couldn't  be 
found?  They  understood  that  I  was  a  woman  that  was 
forever  getting  into  some  mischief,  and  I'd  better  come 
down  fi'om  that  while  it  was  hght  enough  to  be  seen. 

I  obeyed  with  alacrity.  My  guards,  whose  hearts  were 
still  beating  with  the  alarm  inspired  by  my  non-appear- 
ance, informed  me  gi'uffly  that  I  must  not  be  out  of  the 
way,  for  they  had  orders  to  bring  me  before  Governor 
Chives  within  the  half -hour,  and  if  I  had  any  getting  ready 
to  do,  it  must  be  done  in  the  interval.  Excited  by  this  in- 
teUigence,  I  pushed  all  the  getting  ready  in  my  power  by 
endeavoring  to  compose  my  mind  for  the  coming  meet- 
ing, and  to  reflect  calmly  on  my  method  of  defence  before 
the  formidable  tribunal. 

The  vestry-room  in  which  I  was  confined  was  as  dark 
as  a  dungeon,  and  there  was  nothing  to  distract  my 
thoughts,  except  the  occasional  snort  of  a  horse  on  the 
outside,  or  the  blow  of  a  hoof  on  the  floor.  Some  words 
at  last  attracted  my  attention. 

"I  tell  you  what,  it's  resky,"  said  one  of  the  guards. 
"  I  hope  it  won't  be  sech  a  gret  while  we're  yere  clus  by 
the  inimy's  kentry.  Ye  ort  to  hev  seen  how  black  the  ole 
governor  looked  to-night,  when  he  found  the  reinforce- 
ments wasn't  comin'.  With  the  kentry  full  o'  spies 
what's  to  pervent  the  Yankees  from  findin'  out  how  few 
thar  is  here,  and  what  we're  waitin'  for,  though  they  do 
fetch  in  the  ammunition  by  night  ?" 

"Wal,  don't  be  talkin',"  rejoined  the  other."  Their 
voices  died  away,  lea^dng  me  to  console  myself  by  the  re- 
flection that  the  present  Confederate  corps  was  not  so 
secure  as  it  might  be  in  its  own  estimation. 

When  considerable  time,  more  than  half  at  hour,  had 
elapsed,  a  key  worried  o]Den  the  rusty  lock,  a  ray  from  a 


PORT  EVELYN.  333 

lantern  fell  across  the  floor,  and  I  was  ordered  to  come 
forth.  There  was  no  moon  visible,  for  the  sky  was 
clouded.  I  followed  my  guide  as  he  picked  his  way  with 
muttered  curses  through  the  entangled  branches  of  the 
fallen  trees  about  the  churchyard.  The  imposing  build- 
ing I  had  noticed  from  the  belfry  was  lighted  up  from 
garret  to  cellar.  For  this  the  soldier  struck  in  a  direct 
line  across  the  grove,  and  I  followed,  glad  that  suspense, 
at  least,  had  neared  its  termination. 

I  was  conducted  up  a  flight  of  stone  steps,  and  within 
the  building,  followed  my  conductor  across  a  hall,  and 
found  myself  next  in  a  sort  of  small  reception-room,  with 
a  part  of  the  wall  torn  away.  There  were  several  women 
there  already,  some  Irish,  some  Scotch,  one  or  two 
thorough-bred  Yankees,  whose  manners  and  attire  pro- 
claimed them  all  to  belong  to  a  degraded  class  of  hu- 
man beings.  They  were  called  out  one  after  another; 
a  lot  of  four  had  just  been  summoned;  and  a  period  of 
time  elapsed  which  I  hardly  thought  would  suffice  for 
the  disposal  of  any  case,  when  my  guard  looked  in  and 
called  authoritatively,  "  Shaker." 

Knowing  well  enough  by  whose  cognomen  I  was  figur- 
ing, I  followed  the  soldier  within  a  square,  and  what  had 
once  been  an  elegant  room  ;  but  the  hasty  arrangement 
of  the  fu2miture  to  meet  the  requirements  of  its  present 
denizens,  the  torn  carpet,  the  defaced  panels,  the  curtain- 
less  windows,  the  damaged  paintings,  only  marked  what 
once  had  been. 

At  the  head  of  the  room,  seated  by  a  table,  sat  the  un- 
mistakable Governor  Chives.  Just  at  his  elbow,  and 
back  of  the  lamp,  was  the  still  more  unmistakable  Colonel 
George  Berkley.  There  was  another  table,  improvised 
from  two  chairs,  and  an  injured  pier-glass.  Several  weary 
looking  young  men,  in  citizen's  clothes,  sat  at  this  table, 
some  writing  busily,  those  nearest  to  the  governor  with 


334  EENSHAWE. 

pens  behind  their  ears.  The  hai*p  of  a  shattered  piano 
stood  against  the  wall,  and  Captain  Whipplestaff  was 
pulling  at  the  stiings  by  way  of  pastime,  producing 
sounds  with  a  torturing  variety.  Otherwise  the  room 
was  full  of  officers,  tallying  in  undertones,  and  floating  in 
a  cloud  of  tobacco-smoke  fi'om  the  folding  doors,  where 
sat  the  governor,  to  the  windows  at  the  farther  end.  No 
body  stirred  when  I  came  in.  Colonel  Berkley  sat  with 
his  sideface  and  shoulder  turned  toward  the  arena  which 
I  had  just  entered,  close  in  conversation  with  a  uni- 
formed gentlemen,  who  wore  a  very  long,  black  beard. 
He  had  not  seen  me  yet,  and  after  a  second  glance  had 
assured  me  of  his  identity,  I  put  my  hands  behind  me, 
according  to  my  custom  when  at  a  loss  what  to  do  with 
them,  and  with  my  eyes  on  the  floor,  awaited  what  was 
coming  next. 

A  moment's  breathing-time  was  allowed  me,  while  Gov- 
ernor Chives  consulted  some  memorandum  lying  beside 
him  on  the  table. 

"Let  me  see" — the  murmur  was  almost  inaudible — 
"  Blue  Hills — Shaker — ah — this  is  Good's  affaii' — Peters, 
call  Captain  Good!"  Peters  withdrew.  Chives  jerked  off 
his   eyeglasses.      "Toui*  name,   madam,  if  you  please." 

"  Louisa  Renshawe." 

At  this  reply,  spoken  without  di-awl  or  -brogue,  or 
Yankee  twang,  a  dozen  heads  were  hfted  and  turned 
simultaneously  toward  me.  Every  voice  in  the  room,  in- 
cluding even  Berkley's,  stopped  short. 

"  Where  were  you  born  ?"  demanded  the  governor. 

"  In  New  York,"  I  repHed.  All  the  scribes  at  the  table 
set  theu'  pens  in  motion  and  made  a  note  of  the  fact. 

"  Where  abouts  in  New  York  ? " 

"At  the  village  of  Renshawe,  near  Lopetown,  Long 
Island." 

"  Have  you  lived  there  all  youi'  hfe  ?  " 


J 


POET  EVELYN.  835 

"Until  within  a  year."  All  this  intelligence  was  tran- 
scribed at  the  table. 

"  Where  have  you  been  since  March  of  this  year  ?"  con- 
tinued my  questioner. 

I  mentioned  the  several  places  of  my  sojourn.  I  had 
been  at  New  York,  at  Spuytenduyvil,  at  a  village  in  Mary- 
land, at  "Washington,  at  White  Chimneys  in  Virginia,  at 
the  city  of  Kichmond,  at  Suffolk,  and  at  Port  Evelyn. 

Chives  waited  for  the  clerks  to  finish  the  enumeration, 
and  then  put  the  next  question  : 

"  Supply  the  name  of  the  village  in  Maryland  you  al- 
luded to." 

Blue  Hills." 

"VMiile  at  Blue  Hills,  did  you,  or  not,  ride  forty  miles 
on  horseback,  at  dead  of  night,  to  report  the  presence 
of  a  body  of  Confederate  troops,  at  Rocky  Cross,  to  a 
Federal  force  at  Caney  Fork,  by  which  means  the  Con- 
federate body  were  routed,  and  their  prisoners  taken  ?" 

"  I  rode  neither  forty  miles,  uor  altogether  at  dead  of 
night,"  I  replied.  "I  did  report  the  intelligence  you 
speak  of,  and  the  consequences  you  have  mentioned  did 
ensue." 

"  That's  confessed,"  pronounced  Chives.  ''  What's  the 
other  charge  ? — Berkley,  did  you  take  the  paper? — ah ! " 

At  this  juncture.  Good,  summoned  by  Peters,  made  his 
appearance.  He  was  called  on  to  state  as  quickly  as 
possible  aU  that  he  knew  about  me.  He  stated  at  once 
that  I  was  a  Miss  Shaker,  from  Blue  Hills,  in  Maryland  ; 
he  entered  into  the  history  of  my  exploit  at  that  quarter, 
and  finally  announced  my  last  offence — that  I  had  car- 
ried away  several  cannons,  horses  and  aU,  and  had  been 
arrested  for  the  same  by  his  company.  One  of  the  same 
company  was  called  upon  to  support  the  statement.  He 
alleged  that  it  was  all  true,  that  the  lady  had  been  run- 
ning away  with  the  cannon,  and  that  she  came  so  fast. 


336  EENSHA^\^. 

that  she  smashed  one  gun  all  up  on  the  road  ;  moreover, 
when  taken  bv  the  soldiers,  she  had  increased  her  crimes 
by  attempting  to  get  off  on  one  or  both  of  the  horses. 

GoYernor  Chives  inquired  what  my  errand  had  been 
in  the  South. 

''Sir,"  said  I,  "my  mother  was  ill  at  Charleston,  and  it 
is  now  two  weeks  since  I  crossed  the  hues  with  the  single 
object  of  seeing  her." 

"  Then  why  in  the  course  of  those  two  weeks  are  you 
not  at  Charleston,  instead  of  lingering  about  Richmond 
and  Suffolk?" 

"I  telegraphed  to  Charleston  from  Suffolk,"  said  I, 
received  intelligence  that  my  mother  had  left  for  the 
North,  and  have  been  endeavoring  to  recross  the  lines." 

"That's  all  very  plausible,"  remarked  Chives,  "but 
could  you  not  have  crossed  the  lines  ^vithout  taking  six 
of  my  guns  with  you?" 

"  Perhaps  so,"  I  replied,  "  if  the  guns  had  been  labeled 
K.  G.  C ;  but  they  were  marked  U.  S.,  and  I  concluded 
that  they  were  the  property  of  the  Government;  therefore 
it  was  only  my  duty  to  attemjDt  their  restoration  to  their 
lawful  owners.  I  regret  that  the  attempt  was  more  am- 
bitious than  successful." 

"I  dare  say  you  do.  Humph!  Goodj  had  this  enter- 
prising damsel  any  package  or  papers  about  her?" 

"She  had  this  satchel,"  said  Good,  presenting  that 
article,  which  was  laid  on  the  table  as  so  much  contra- 
band of  war.  Now  the  satchel  was  evidently  empty,  and 
Good  said  he  had  found  therein  a  hair-brush,  a  hat- 
brush,  a  clothes-brush,  and  another  brush,  and  he'd  be 
hanged  if  he  could  tell  what  that  brush  was  for. 

"  Nothing  but  brushes  in  the  bag  ?  "  said  the  governor 
impatiently. 

"Only  one  thing  of  significance,  sii':  a  ticket  for  a 
trunk  left  at  Richmond." 


PORT  EVELYN.  337 

"  Where's  tlie  ticket  ?" 

"  It  is  on  its  way  to  Kiclimond.  I  sent  it  by  one  of  my 
men,  who  is  to  examine  the  trunk  and  report  the  con- 
tents." 

"It  was  not  worth  while,"  said  Chives  indifferently- 
"The  case  is  plainly  made  out,  eh  Berkley?  The  girl  is 
here  under  an  assumed  name,  and  her  deeds  condemn 
her." 

Captain  Whipplestaff  here  advanced  with  some  spirit. 
"  I  cwave  permission  to  speak  one  word,  Governah.  This 
young  lady's  name  is  Wenshawe,  and  her  mothah  has 
been  ill  at  Charleston.     I  met  her  at  White  Chimneys." 

Chives  replaced  his  eye  glasses  and  eyed  me  keenly. 

"Why  were  you  officiating  at  Blue  Hills  under  the 
name  of  Shaker,  Miss  Eenshawe  ?  " 

I  denied  that  I  had  assumed  any  name  but  my  own. 

"  Where  do  you  belong  ?" 

"  To  the  North — Long  Island,"  I  repeated,  not  a  little 
annoyed  at  this  evidence  that  I  was  not  beHeved. 

"I  know  you  belong  to  the  North,  young  lady.  I 
mean  by  what  particular  division  of  the  Northern  army 
have  you  been  employed  ?" 

"  By  none." 

"  You  deny,  in  the  face  of  all  our  recent  evidence,  that 
you  are  a  spy  ?" 

"  I  do  deny  it,  sir,  emphatically,  earnestly.' 

This  rej^ly  was  unheeded  by  the  governor.  Berkley  was 
speaking,  and  though  what  he  said  was  lost  on  my  ear, 
it  contributed  much  to  Chives's  amazement,  who  said,  in 
a  tone  of  surprised  interrogation,  "  On  what  grounds  ?" 

"As  a  personal  favor,"  said  Berkley,  quite  distinctly. 

"  Certainly,"  said  the  governor,  immediately.  "  Cer- 
tainly.    Call  in  the  next  case." 

"  How  about  this  " Good  began. 

"  Judgment  reserved,"  said  Chives,  hastily.     "  That  is 
to  say,  it  is  in  Colonel  Berkley's  hands." 
15 


338  RENSHAWE. 

"  Tou  may  relieve  yourself  of  all  further  responsibility, 
Captain  Good,"  remarked  Berkley. 

Overpowering  resentment  swelled  my  whole  heart.  I 
turned  impulsively,  recklessly  toward  the  governor. 

"  Sir,"  said  I,  "  if  my  hberty  is  at  Colonel  Berkley's  dis- 
posal, I  would  rather  abide  by — the  alternative." 

Chives  had  taken  up  the  next  paper.  He  measui-ed  me 
with  a  dehberate  stare,  then  said,  coolly:  "Alternative? 
There  isn't  any.  Coi-poral,  take  away  the  lady,  and  go  to 
Colonel  Berkley  for  your  orders." 

Plainly  there  was  no  appeal,  and  swallowing  my  over- 
whelming wrath  and  chagrin,  I  followed  the  coi'poral 
fi'om  the  apartment.  "Where  I  was  to  go  next  was  a  mat- 
ter seemingly  unsettled. 

"  Is  Colonel  Berkley's  prison  anywhere  near  Governor 
Chives's?"  I  inquired  of  my  coniuctor,  ''or  is  it  ail  one 
establishment  ?" 

"All  one  consarn,  I  reckon,"  said  the  coi'poral;  ''but 
I  see  they're  hevin'  the  rest  on  'em  at  supper  in  the  base- 
ment. I  didn't  hev  no  orders  agin  yer  hevin'  supper. 
Any  how,  ye  can't  get  out  of  the  house,  and  what  to  do 
with  ye  " 

The  man  was  apparently  so  tipsy  that  he  had  hardly 
intellect  enough  left  to  execute  the  orders  he  had  received. 
I  was  rejoiced  beyond  measui'e  when  Captain  ^Vhipple- 
staff  appeared  on  the  scene.  He  immediately  professed 
his  regret  at  having  met  me  in  such  a  situation,  and 
asked  anxiously  what  I  was  to  do  next.  I  said  I  did  not 
suppose  that  my  own  movements  would  be  at  my  own 
disposal. 

"  Well,  now,  the  twuth  is,  IMiss  Wenshawe,"  said  the 
captain,  "  'tis  an  extwemely  unfawtunate  piece  of  busi- 
ness. Extwemely  unfawtunate,  and  if  there  was  anything 
I  could  do  to  ext^sicate  you,  I  would  do  it  with  pleasui-e. 
But  you  see,  it  was  quite  out  of  the  question  for  me  to 


rORT  EVELYN.  339 

know  mucli  about  you,  and  the  twuth  was,  I  was  so  bewil- 
dalid !  Those  cannons  have  weally  played  the  mischief, 
*and  though  I  of  cawth  will  do  aU  I  can  for  you,  still  I'm 
not  the  colonel,  and  you  must  wely  on  the  colonel  as 
your  pwincipal  ally." 

"Captain  "Whipplestaff,"  said  I,  indignantly,  "I  did  not 
ask  to  be  Colonel  Berkley's  prisoner,  nor  shall  I  desire 
him  to  act  as  my  ally." 

"  Well,  now.  Miss  Wenshawe,  fact  is  you  do  need  a 
f wend,  and  though  it's  not  my  affiah,  I  think  you'll  be 
very  foolish  to  act  so  towards  the  colonel.  You're  not 
supposed  to  be  his  pwisonah.  Miss  Wenshawe.  He  has 
not  even  intimated  that  he  wegards  it  in  that  light,  and 
if  I  were  you,  I  should  just  waive  all  scwuples,  and  sink  aU 
pwide,  and  accept  his  assistance.  Then  the  woad's  cleah. 
You  may,  of  cawth,  depend  on  my  fwiendship,  but  I'm 
not  infwuential.  Miss  Wenshawe,  and  the  colonel,  he's 
the  weal  king  here.  Governah  Chives  is  wuled  by  him 
altogethah.  If  he  says  bwack  is  white,  the  old  man 
swears  to  it.  You're  no  moah  the  colonel's  pwisonah 
now  than  you  were  when  you  were  bwought  here.  You 
might  at  least  see  the  colonel,  I  think." 

"I  suppose,  of  course,"  said  I,  surprised,  "that  the 
colonel  could  see  me  if  he  chose  it." 

"  Well,  he  doesn't  seem  to  think  so,"  replied  Captain 
Whipplestaff. 

"Did  he  send  you  to  find  out?"  I  asked  quickly. 

"  Just  so.  He  wanted  me  to  say  to  Miss  Wenshawe 
fwom  him,  that  if  she  will  accept  his  assistance  he  is 
entirely  at  her  service,  and  if  you  are  willing  to  see  him, 
and  he  thinks  it  quite  necessawy  you  should,  I  am  to  tell 
him  so.     That  is  all." 

This  conversation  had  run  on  at  some  gi'eat  length.  I 
was  too  wavering  between  my  present  distress  and  for- 
mer indignation  to  give  a  more  decided  answer.     Mr. 


340  RENSHAWE. 

"Wliipplestaff  stood  by  the  bench  whereon  I  sat,  twisting 
and  tying  a  broken  string  of  the  harp,  talking  on  as  vol- 
ubly as  ever,  when  Colonel  Berkley  came  through  the 
hall.  He  caught  my  eye  as  I  looked  up  with  a  troubled, 
nervous  glance,  and  probably  not  thinking  it  worth  while 
to  wait  for  the  result  of  the  captain's  commission,  he 
came  up  to  us  du'ectly.  I  rose  with  a  deference  and  hau- 
teur by  no  means  an  impossible  mixture,  both  in  my 
soul  and  my  manner.  I  tried  to  speak,  but  utterance  was 
denied  me,  and  I  could  only  stand  with  trembhng  nerves 
and  shortened  breath,  pulling  at  the  string  of  my  gipsy 
hat  till  it  broke. 

"  I  trust  you  will  pardon  me,"  said  Berkley,  "  for  not 
offering  my  services  in  person.  Miss  Renshawe,  but  we 
have  had  important  business  on  hand,  and  I  am  but  just 
^t  liberty.  You  have  only  to  say  in  what  way  I  can 
assist  you,  and  I  will  be  happy  to  do  so  as  far  as  hes  in 
my  power." 

"  In  any  way  you  please,"  I  repHed,  repressing  a  decla- 
ration that  I  would  accept  no  favor  at  his  hands. 

"  It  will  be  impossible  for  me,"  he  continued,  "  to  give  you 
your  liberty  under  a  day  or  two,  but  until  I  can,  you  may 
remain  under  this  roof  as  a  gTiest  of  Governor  Chives, 
if  you  will  give  me  your  promise  that  you  will  make  no 
attempt  to  escape,  or  to  communicate  with  the  enemy." 

I  was  too  fond  of  freedom  not  to  yield  to  the  tempt- 
ing prospect  of  comparative  libei-ty.  I  thought  of  the 
mural  solitude  of  the  vestry-room,  and  slender  chances 
of  escape.  After  a  moment's  hesitation,  I  replied,  "I 
am  very  grateful  for  your  offer.  Colonel  Berkley.  It  is 
more  than  I  expected.  My  word  is  given.  I  will  obey 
the  conditions." 

"Come  this  way,"  was  the  immediate  direction,  and 
rejoiced  to  be  reheved  from  the  exceptional  din  of  the 
haU,  I  followed  my  new  conductor  through  the  hall  and 


PORT  EYELYN.  341 

up  the  stairs.  The  guards  on  the  landing-place  drew 
back.  Berkley  stopped  at  an  elegantly  arched  door  of 
the  hall,  waited  till  I  dragged  myself  forward,  and  opened 
it  with  the  invitation,  or  rather  command,  "Take  my 
arm." 

I  obeyed,  and  was  led  within.  It  was  the  apartment 
immediately  over  the  trial-chamber,  and,  from  its  interior, 
had  been  unmolested  by  the  soldiery.  It  was  lit  by  sev- 
eral lamps,  and  tenanted  by  several  ladies,  all  dressed  in 
evening  costume,  as  though  sojourning  safely  in  a  peace- 
ful city.  Berkley  led  me  directly  across  the  room  to  a 
lady  who  was  seated  in  an  arm-chair  by  the  fireplace. 
She  was  encircled,  and  surrounded,  and  veiled  by  white 
robes  floating  over  the  chair,  and  swept  around  on  the 
floor.  The  bracelets  on  her  handsome  arms  were  their 
only  ornaments,  and  her  black  hair  was  rolled  away 
from  one  of  the  most  amiable  faces  I  ever  had  looked 
upon.  As,  in  my  soiled  and  disordered  dress,  and  un- 
regulated tresses,  I  came  in  contact  with  so  much  white 
lace  and  satin,  I  felt  that  I  looked  forlorn  enough." 

"Mrs.  Deschapples,"  said  Berkley,  "  allow  me  to  intro- 
duce Miss  Kenshawe.  She  remains  under  your  charge 
during  her  stay." 

Mrs.  Deschapples  rose  hastily,  and  poUtely  bade  me 
welcome,  then  turned  to  my  companion 

"  Be  back  by  ten,  my  dear  Berkley,  if  possible.  Uncle 
Chives  will  not  allow  us  any  supper  till  you  come." 

Berkley  promised  to  be  back  if  possible,  and  withdrew. 
While  I  was  answering  Mrs.  Deschapples's  inquiries  I  was 
suddenly  speechless  at  sight  of  two  very  dark  eyes  across 
the  room  regarding  me  with  a  sardonic  expression.  The 
next  moment  my  cousin  i^lice  was  at  my  side. 

"  I  am  rejoiced  to  meet  you,  Mrs,  Deschapples.  This 
young  lady  is  my  cousin,  and  for  some  time  a  fellow-trav- 
eler. Come,  my  dear  Louisa,  hurry  up  stairs  with  me, 
and  get  some  decent  clothes  on.*' 


342  RENSHAWE. 

Eelieved  to  find  Alice  in  a  spirit  more  amicable  than 
the  mode  of  our  last  parting  would  promise,  I  followed 
her  from  the  room.  Chives  and  the  colonel  were  in  close 
conversation  at  the  head  of  the  stairs.  The  governor 
glanced  up  at  us  as  we  passed. 

"So  that  girl  is  out?"  he  said  in  a  low  tone. 

"  On  parole,"  rejoined  Berkley. 

"Lord!  does  she  know  what  it  is  ?     Will  she  keep  it?" 

"  Knows  ?    Yes,"  said  the  colonel. 

"  Well,  perhaps  so.  A  woman  who  unsexes  herself  so 
far  as  to  conduct  horses  and  cannons  about  the  coun- 
try " 

The  rest  of  the  speect  I  did  not  hear,  nor  did  the  be- 
ginning promise  enough  for  the  end  to  cause  any  regret 
for  the  loss. 


CHAPTER    XXXy. 

IX   WHICH    THE    HEEOINE    MINGLES    IN    SOCIETY. 

[Jlfj^ULTIFARIOUS  were  the  questions  that  I  put  to 
my  cousin  during  my  hurried  toilette  in  the 
di-essing-room  above  stairs.  Alice  had  never 
seemed  so  communicative  in  her  life  before. 

I  found  that  the  house  in  which  I  was,  was  the  prop- 
erty of  a  noted  Union  man,  of  high  consideration,  at 
Port  Evelyn,  who  had  gone  North  with  his  family,  and 
that  at  present  it  was  used  as  a  temporary  arsenal  for 
arms  that  were  coming  in  daily,  through  purchase  and 
otherwise.  More  than  that,  it  had  formerly  been  a  head- 
quarters of  rebel  spies  and  agents,  attached  to  the  interests, 
or  under  the  supervision  of  Governor  Chives.  Alice 
informed  me  that  Mrs.  Deschapples  was  the  widow  of  an 


'  PORT  EVELYN.  343 

officer  in  tlie  rebel  service,  who  was  a  nephew  of  Chives 
himself,  and  that  she  was  sister  to  no  less  a  person  than 
Mrs.  Brancton,  whom  circumstances  had  given  me  so 
much  reason  to  remember,  and  that  nearly  every  one  of 
the  ladies  I  had  seen  below  in  the  parlor,  was  in  the 
service  of  the  rebel  government.  My  cousin  no  longer 
pretended  to  deny  her  ovni  share  in  the  predominant 
fealty. 

"  And  you  are  enlisted  on  the  other  side,"  said  Alice, 
significantly  ;  "  only  want  of  skill  has  made  you  unsuc- 
cessful. My  dear,  when  you  have  served  your  State  as 
long  as  I  have  mine,  you  won't  attempt  to  take  off  a 
whole  battery,  through  a  line  of  pickets." 

I  hastened  to  correct  Alice's  surmise  immediately,  and 
explained  the  whole  matter  all  through,  in  as  few  words 
as  possible.  Alice  listened  attentively.  She  owned 
Good  was  a  thoroughly  despicable  being ;  he  had 
deserted  to  the  South,  with  nearly  half  his  company.  I 
spoke  of  Good's  rifling  my  property,  left  at  Richmond, 
and  of  the  fact  that  the  paper  inspected  by  Gallorda,  the 
day  of  my  encounter  with  him,  was  contained  in  the 
trunk.  Alice  was  thoroughly  amazed  at  my  carelessness, 
and  thought  it  would  be  a  most  unfortunate  circumstance 
for  me  if  that  paper  were  presented  to  Governor  Chives. 

"  But  you  can  tell  him,  Alice,"  said  I,  earnestly,  "  that 
I  am  your  cousin,  and  that  I  am  really  no  spy,  can  you 
not  ?" 

AUce  shook  her  head. 

"  Why,  Alice,"  I  exclaimed,  "  you  surely  do  not  doubt 
my  assertions,  do  you  ?" 

"  As  your  cousin,"  said  Alice,  gravely  ;  "  as  one  who 
knows  you  intimately,  and  loves  you  strongly,  I  may  be- 
lieve you  ;  but  as  an  emissary  of  Governor  Chives,  and 
his  clique,  acting  in  the  service  of  the  Southern  govern- 
ment, I  cannot  believe  you.      You  must  not   feel  hurt, 


844  RENSHAWE. 

Louise ;    my    oath    obliges    me    to   distrust  the   angel 
Gabriel." 

"  Then  it  is  a  very  wicked  oath  that  you  have  taken," 
said  I,  hotly,  "  if  you  must  turn  against  youi'  own 
relatives  " 

"  Stay,  my  dear,"  said  Alice,  earnestly  ;  "  when  you 
next  see  me  in  Washington,  collecting  all  the  informa- 
tion I  can,  and  traveling  about  to  the  Northern  cities, 
won't  you  consider  it  your  duty,  who  are  bound  by  no 
oath,  to  inform  the  authorities  ?" 

"  No,  Alice,  I  am  not  more  confident  now,  that  you  are 
a  Southern  emissary,  than ,  I  was  last  March  ;"  and  the 
Black  Eobin,  in  full  council,  rose  vividly  before  my 
mind. 

"Well,"  said  my  cousin,  "spies,  after  all,  have  little 
love  of  country.  A  Northern  lady,  who  knew  my  caUing 
perfectly  to  be  the  same  as  her  own,  met  me  in  Washing- 
ton, was  among  my  fi'iends  there — she  a  spy  for  the 
North,  and  I  for  the  South  ;  but  it  was  a  mere  matter  of 
merchandise  with  her.  I  would  not  betray  her  here.  I 
can  conceive  of  a  sister's  love  as  scarcely  greater  than 
that  I  have  felt  for  Cassy  and  you  ;  therefore,  I  say  I 
would  have  seen  you  here,  day  after  day,  without  endan- 
gering you  by  a  word,  but  when  it  comes  to  going  before 
Chives,  and  saving  on  my  own  responsibihty,  that  it 
would  be  safe  to  trust  you,  I  say  the  act  would  be  perjury, 
because  I  do  know  cii'cumstances  that  tell  against  you. 
I  see  you  have  a  great  deal  of  nerve,  and  a  gi^eat  deal  of 
spirit — proper  quahties  for  pubhc  service — and  as  for 
your  denial,  that  is  a  matter  of  course.  All  spies  will 
deny  theii'  character." 

"  I  would  never   embark  in  a  profession  that  exacts 
such  a  sacrifice  of  principle,"  said  I. 

"  I  know,"  said  Alice,  demurely,  "  you  are  better  than 
I;  you  always  were.      I  didn't  join  the  church,  and  you 


^  PORT  EVELYN.  345 

did,  and  the  Kev.  Mr.  Aldovine  said  you  were  his  most 
promising  subject  in  the  confirmation  class  " 

"  Never  mind,"  I  interrupted  ;  "  I  don't  altogether 
fancy  your  way  of  drawling  distinctions.  Give  me  some 
idea  when  Good  will  be  coming  with  the  papers,  that  I 
may  prepare  for  my  fate." 

"  Oh,  the  paper  I  had  forgotten.  Well,  the  best  advice 
I  can  give  you,  is  to  make  your  escape  as  soon  as 
possible." 

"  That's  not  possible  ;  I  am  on  parole." 

"  Parole !  who  offered  you  that,  Chives  ?" 

"  Colonel  Berkley." 

"You  need  give  yourself  no  uneasiness,  then.  If 
Berkley  takes  your  part.  Good  cannot  injure  you,  if  he 
came  with  a  trunk  full  of  papers." 

"  But  will  not  the  appearance  of  the  paper,  influence 
Colonel  Berkley  against  me?" 

"  My  advice,  all  I  can  do  for  you,"  said  AHce,  "  can  be 
soon  given.  Just  take  the  first  opportunity  of  speaking 
to  Colonel  Berkley — to-night  if  it  offers,  if  not,  request 
an  interview  with  him  in  the  morning.  Lay  the  case 
plainly  before  him,  and  it  will  all  be  provided  for." 

"  Has  he  so  much  influence  with  the  governor  ?" 

"  Influence  !  Berkley  holds  the  sway  here  altogether. 
Oh,  yes ;  Chives  consults  with  him,  and  appeals  to  him 
in  everything.  Mis.  Deschapples  is  in  love  with  him,  in 
the  first  place." 

"  How  do  you  know  it  ?" 

"  In  the  same  way  that  anybody  knows  it.  You'll  see 
it  yourself  in  a  day  or  two.  I  don't  know  that  her  heart 
is  very  much  involved,  but  she  is  a  terribly  ambitious 
woman,  and  Berkley  is  rising  fast.  His  name  is  already 
before  the  government  for  promotion  to  a  generalship. 
The  governor  is  attached  to  him  for  many  reasons.  He 
is  a  strange  man,  the  governor — timid  on  some  occasions 


346  RENSHAWE. 

and  brave  on  others.  He  is  never  afraid  of  open  foes, 
but  always  shrinks  from  concealed  dangers.  He  never 
comes  to  the  supper-table,  except  in  company  with  Col- 
onel Berkley,  that  he  may  be  sui'e  the  wine  is  not 
poisoned." 

As  we  were  just  then  summoned  to  supper,  I  had  no 
time  to  inquii'e  how  the  mere  fact  of  Berkley's  company 
should  guarantee  the  innocuous  character  of  the  wine, 
and  could  only  account  for  it  by  the  supposition  that  the 
colonel  was  too  generally  beloved  to  be  so  endangered. 
Neither  Chives  nor  Berkley  appeared  at  the  table,  at 
which  we  were  all  comfortably  seated  by  ten  o'clock  at 
night.  The  male  portion  of  the  community  was  repre- 
sented by  two  clerks  of  the  governor's  menage,  and  with 
this  exception,  a  board  twelve  feet  long  was  surrounded 
by  females,  from  whose  faces  it  was  in  several  instances 
hard  to  believe  they  belonged  to  the  honorable  fraternity 
for  which  theii'  manners  and  morals  apparently  unfitted 
them.  In  these  instances  my  heai't  inclined  me  to  form  ex- 
ceptions ;  and  I  afterwards  found  I  had  singled  out  as  inno- 
cent the  very  ones  who  were  most  skilled  in  their  art.  I 
marked  their  faces,  but,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  I  never 
saw  any  of  them  again,  and  was  content  with  a  vague  recol- 
lection of  them  as  spies  in  blue,  spies  in  white,  spies  in 
silk,  satin,  and  spangles  ;  spies  in  velvet  caps,  and  Scotch 
plaids,  with  ornaments  scanty  as  was  judicious,  inter- 
spersed here  and  there. 

After  supper  I  had  a  conversation  with  Mrs.  Deschap- 
ples,  in  which  both  talked  over  family  affafrs  to  that 
extent  in  which  people  frequently  indulge,  when  thrown 
together  under  circumstances  so  well  calculated  to  pro- 
mote acquaintanceship.  I  found  she  knew  nearly  every 
lady  I  could  mention.  Of  Mrs.  Brancton,  she  spoke  at 
length,  mentioning  her  in  those  terms  of  sorrowful 
affection  with  which  one  sister  might  speak  of  another 


PORT  EVELYN.  847 

whose  conduct  had  formed  a  prolific  source  of  regret  for 
her  whole  family. 

The  clerks  had  left  the  party  immediately  after  supper, 
and  the  ladies  solaced  themselves  by  books,  conversation, 
and  cards,  not  to  speak  of  six  who  circled  a  table  for 
forty  minutes,  in  the  vain  attempt  to  get  up  spiiitual 
rappings,  until  twelve  o'clock,  when  the  party  broke  up. 


CHAPTER  XXXVn. 

ITH  the  first  horn  that  sounded  at  early  day- 
1^1  break  I  was  awake,  to  find  that  several  of  the 
companions  of  my  extensive  sleeping  apartment 
were  astir,  as  some  of  them  had  errands  that  took  them 
away  by  sunrise,  and  I  hastened  to  dress  before  the  rest 
were  up.  Alice  was  among  the  departing  number,  and 
before  she  left,  she  asked  if  I  still  intended  to  lay  my  case 
before  Berkley. 

I  said  yes,  though  I  dreaded  the  interview  greatlj'  and 
intended  to  defer  it  as  long  as  possible.  Ahce  charged 
me  not  to  be  so  foohsh,  but  to  anticipate  Good  at  once  ; 
the  disagreeable  task  could  take  but  a  short  time,  and 
would  not  grow  more  agreeable  by  delay.  One  favor, 
however,  she  vdshed  to  ask  ;  this  was,  that  I  would  not 
mention  to  Chives,  to  Berkley,  or  to  anybody  else,  that  I 
had  crossed  the  lines  in  her  comj)any,  unless  I  found  it 
absolutely  necessary  to  my  safety  to  proclaim  it.  I  gave 
the  promise  and  we  parted. 

On  coming  below,  I  asked  the  first  soldier  I  saw,  if  he 
knew  where  Colonel  Berkley  was,  and  I  was  referred  to 
the  room  that  had  been  the  scene  of  my  trial  on  the 
previous  evening,  for  the  gentleman  of  whom  I  was  in 


348  EENSHAWE. 

quest.  To  this  apartment  I  immediately  repaired.  It 
presented  an  appearance  more  dilapidated  and  desolated 
by  the  dawning  day  than  it  had  by  candle-light.  One 
clerk  was  wi'iting  at  the  same  table,  made  fi'om  the  pier 
glass,  but  it  had  been  moved  to  the  other  side  of  the 
fireplace,  and  the  tattered  red  window  curtains  were 
pulled  together  and  secured  with  a  case-knife.  A  couple 
of  huge  dogs  lay  on  the  floor,  and  the  shadow  of  a 
horse's  head  fi*equently  threw  a  deeper  shade  on  the  red 
curtain,  as  several  animals  were  feeding  just  outside  the 
window.  A  second  clerk  lay  fast  asleep  on  three  chairs, 
his  place  at  the  table  being  occupied  by  Berkley,  who  was 
looking  over  several  papers,  making  an  occasional  correc- 
tion with  a  pen,  under  the  flickering  rays  of  a  lamp  just 
fading  in  the  daylight.  I  knocked  at  the  open  door  and 
was  bidden  to  come  in,  by  the  clerk,  who,  on  my  com- 
pliance, desired  me  to  be  seated,  and  inquired  civilly 
whether  I  wished  to  see  Grovernor  Chives.  I  said  feebly 
that  I  wished  to  see  Colonel  Berkley. 

"  I  will  be  at  leisure  in  a  moment,"  said  Berkley. 

How  any  man  could  collect  his  thoughts  in  such  a  din 
as  that  which  rose  incessantly  in  the  courtyard,  was  a 
matter  of  surprise  to  me.  Under  the  window  it  grew 
tremendous. 

"  Bring  up  the  sorrel  ;  fetch  up  the  bay  ;  trot  out  the 
black  ;"  hallowed  some  Stentor,  while  a  small  avalanche 
of  grain  roUed  out  of  a  sack,  and  the  quadrupeds  were 
forced  to  back  do^Ti. 

"  What  is  going  on  out  there  ?"  asked  Berkley,  of  the 
clerk. 

"  It's  the  ladies'  horses,  sir  ;  they  feed  them  here  be- 
cause the  piano  fi-ame  was  thrown  down  close  to  the 
house,  and  it's  a  good  trough  for  the  oats." 

This  explanation  seemed  to  satisfy  Berkley,  though  I 
fancied  that  in  the  voice  of  the  speaker  I  could  detect  a 


PORT  EVELYN.  349 

little  compunction  for  the  instance  of  wanton  destmction 
he  mentioned.  It  made  my  own  heart  swell  with  indig- 
nation as  I  remembered  how  recently  this  very  ground 
had  been  occupied  by  the  troops  of  the  United  States, 
and  this  property  respected.  One  of  the  young  ladies 
came  in  at  this  juncture,  habited  for  her  expedition. 

Berkley  gave  her  several  papers,  and  some  directions, 
uttered  in  a  low  and  confidential  tone,  occupied  consider- 
able time. 

In  the  meantime  I  measured  the  damsel  with  critical 
eyes.  She  wasn't  going  on  horseback.  She  wore  a  huge 
circular,  of  red  and  black  plaid,  a  long  feather  in  her 
black  jockey  cap,  sharp  angular  face,  curls  multitudinous 
hanging  over  her  back.  Who  was  she  Uke  ?  I  thought 
of  IVIrs.  Rafferty's  cousin,  in  the  "Absentee,"  Miss  Juliana 
O'Leary,  "  very  ihgant,"  and  of  Miss  Glorvina  O'Dowd  in 
"  Vanity  Fair."  This  young  lady  had  no  name  that  I  heard, 
however.  Berkley  confined  himself  simply  to  the  per- 
sonal pronoun  during  the  dialogue. 

She  had  gone  at  last,  and  the  colonel  pushed  aside  the 
papers  and  moved  around  facing  me,  with  an  air  that 
expressed  his  readiness  to  listen  to  me. 

I  felt  reluctant  to  speak  before  the  clerk,  not  that  I 
had  anything  to  say  that  made  secrecy  imperative,  but  it 
was  hard  enough  to  discourse  with  Berkley,  without 
being  fettered  by  witnesses.  I  began  my  declaration 
by  saying,  that  he  had  akeady  been  so  kind  to  me,  and  I 
was  so  very  grateful  that  I — in  short,  that  he  had  inter- 
ested himself  so  unexpectedly  and  so  generously,  that  it 
was  impossible  for  me  to  be  able  to  say — that  reaUy  he 
had  been  so  exceedingly  kind 

Here  I  stopped  short,  tried  to  collect  my  thoughts, 
and  began  again.  Berkley  listened  in  calmness  to 
another  speech,  in  which,  I  came  no  nearer  the  object 
than  before  ;   and  ended,  to  my  vexation,  in  the  same 


350  EENSHAWE. 

assurance,  that  he  had  been  very  kind.  My  auditor 
bowed  in  manifestation  that  that  point  was  sufficiently 
luminous,  and  I  came  to  a  dead  stop. 

The  clerk  at  the  table,  looked  around. 

"  Sappers'  and  miners'  musketoons  ?" 

"  Twelve,"  said  Berkley;  "  stay,  several  were  worthless  ; 
you  may  go  down  and  inquire." 

Before  he  had  reached  the  door,  the  colonel  added  : 

"  Stop  in  the  governor's  room  and  bring  me  the  min- 
utes of  iMiss  Renshawe's  examination." 

The  clerk  withdrew,  and  I  proceeded  without  further 
preamble. 

"If  you  recollect,  Colonel  Berkley,  I  have  an  enemy 
here,  in  Captain  Good.  He  accused  me  of  being  a  spy, 
and  informed  Governor  Chives  that  he  would  prove  it. 
I  came  in  this  morning  to  ask  you  about  that." 

"  You  are  entii-ely  beyond  reach  of  Captain  Good's 
enmity,  ^liss  Renshawe,"  said  Berkley. 

"  But  he  has  told  Governor  Chives,"  said  I,  "  that  he 
intends  sending  for  my  baggage  to  Richmond.  Now 
when  it  comes  here,  as  it  will  in  the  coui'se  of  this 
day,  what  will  Governor  Chives  think  about  it^" 

"His  most  natural  reflection,"  repHed  Berkley,  "will 
be,  that  Captain  Good  has  taken  a  gi-eat  deal  of  trouble.*' 

The  gi'eat  question  that  presented  itself  to  cause  emo- 
tion in  the  next  declaration,  and  one  which  had  not 
occurred  till  now,  was  whether  Berkley  would  lend  to  my 
unsupported  assertions  the  credit  they  deserved.  I  went 
on  with  a  steady  voice,  though  my  face  betrayed  no  httle 
excitement,  to  say  that  unfortunately  Captain  Good  would 
find  himself  armed  with  a  circumstance,  in  seciu'ing  my 
baggage,  strongly  in  favor  of  his  charges.  I  had  declared 
to  Governor  Chives,  the  night  before,  that  I  was  not  a 
spy,  nor  had  ever  acted  as  such  ;  but  that  there  was  a 
paper  in  my  trunk,  fi'om  which  Governor  Chives  would 


rOKT  EVELYN.  351 

certainly  infer  that  I  had  served  the  United  States  in 
that  character.  Berkley  was  silent  for  some  minutes. 
Never  had  I  so  longed  for  an  answer.  Just  at  that  moment 
another  young  female  entered,  equipped  for  traveling, 
and  the  colonel  and  she  stood  by  the  table  for  full  fifteen 
minutes  talking  over  papers,  and  distances,  and  cities, 
while  I  remained  in  suspense.  This  girl  was  quite 
pretty,  had  an  intelligent  and  pleasant  face,  and  wore 
an  unobtrusive,  modest-looking  dress.  I  saw  directly 
that  she  was  quite  lost  in  admiration  of  Berkley,  for  she 
asked  twice  as  many  questions  as  were  necessary,  simply 
for  the  pleasure  of  hstening  to  his  replies.  My  heart 
was  beating  painfully  high  with  suspense,  before  the  door 
had  closed  after  her.  Berkley  had  scarcely  recrossed  the 
room  and  resumed  his  seat,  when  the  door  opened  and 
the  same  female  looked  in. 

"  What's  the  password.  Colonel  Berkley  ?" 

"Manassas  Gap." 

"  The  same  as  yesterday  ?" 

"  No  ;  yesterday  it  was  Manassas  Junction." 

"Thank  you  ;  good  morning,"  and  she  was  gone. 
Troubled  as  I  was,  I  could  not  help  wondering  why  in 
the  world  she  could  not  have  asked  somebody  outside ; 
there  were  plenty  of  people  in  the  hall,  and  about  the 
house.  My  turn  had  come  again.  Berkley's  first 
question  was  a  rehef. 

"  Is  the  paper  you  mention,  a  plan  of  our  fortifications, 
or  any  sort  of  a  journal  in  the  political  Hne  ?" 

"  It  was  only  a  letter." 

"  How  came  it  in  your  possession  ?" 

In  answer  to  so  natural  an  inquiry,  I  made  haste  to 
give  ample  explanation.  Withholding  only  Mi'S.  Jones's 
name,  I  rehearsed  her  oJBfers  to  me,  mentioning  that  the 
whole  idea  of  my  undertaking  such  a  mission,  had 
originated  with  her  ;  stating  the  natui'e  of  the  contents 


352  RENSHAWE. 

of  the  document,  and  that  neglect  on  my  part  had  pre- 
vented its  destruction.  In  this  elucidation,  I  hoped 
Colonel  Berkley  would  understand  that  the  United  States 
were  not  to  be  considered  as  having  furnished  me  with 
authority. 

"  Your  artillery  movement,  the  other  day,  was  all  on 
your  own  responsibility,  then  ?"  he  inquired. 

"  Certainly,"  said  I.  "  I  have  no  wish  to  deny  my 
readiness  to  serve  the  United  States." 

"  That  readiness,"  said  Berkley,  "  we  would  not  object 
to,  if  displayed  on  the  other  side  of  the  border,  in  a  lint 
association  or  a  hospital;  but  your  manner  of  evincing  it 
here,  though  highly  novel,  is  not  exactly  to  our  taste." 

"  I  am  not  a  spy.  Colonel  Berkley,  either  on  my  own 
authority  or  that  of  the  government,"  I  uttered  these 
words  with  spii'it. 

At  that  juncture  the  clerk  returned,  and  handed  a 
slip  of  paper  to  Berkley,  before  resuming  his  seat.  I 
trembled  for  the  issue.  Berkley's  eye  ran  over  the 
record  of  my  examination  line;  by  line  then  came  the 
very  inquiry  I  had  dreaded. 

"Why  did  you  not  telegi'aph  to  your  mother  from 
Eichmond,  instead  of  from  Suffolk  ?" 

How  could  I  explain,  without  saying  that  I  feared 
Alice's  representations  to  my  injury,  and  then  I  must 
add  that  she  crossed  the  lines  with  me. 

"Colonel  Berkley,"  I  replied,  "I  could  answer  you 
satisfactorily,  and  if  you  see  fit  to  insist  upon  it,  I  will, 
but  I  shall  very  much  regret  the  necessity,  and  I  would 
rather  tell  you,  simply,  that  I  had  a  reason  for  that 
coui'se,  without  explaining  what  it  was." 

My  voice  had  grown  fairly  inarticulate  with  emotion, 
before  this  sentence  was  complete. 

"  Very  well,"  said  Berkley,  "  you  may  make  youi'  mind 
easy  on  this  matter.     I'll  put  a  stopper  on  Good,  and  if 


PORT  EVELYN.  853 

you  get  into  any  further  trouble,  you  may  send  for 
me." 

I  thanked  the  colonel,  avoiding  with  some  difficulty 
another  declaration,  that  he  was  very  kind,  and  quitted 
the  room.  In  one  thing  I  had  been  agreeably  dis- 
appointed. Not  by  word  or  look  had  Berkley  manifested 
the  shghtest  doubt  of  what  I  alleged  my  position  to  be. 
I  was  painfully  aware  that  my  statements  had  an  im- 
probable sound;  yet  Berkley  had  accepted  them  with 
impHcit  faith  within  the  very  walls  where  accused  were 
judged  with  little  mercy,  and  where  no  one  could  re- 
proach him  for  leaving  me  to  a  fate  for  which  my  actions 
had  offered  seeming  justification. 

I  breakfasted  alone  with  Mrs.  Deschapples.  As  for 
the  rest  of  the  ladies,  many  of  them  had  gone  before 
that  hour;  and  the  others  were  to  depart  later  in  the 
day.  After  breakfast  some  time  was  spent  in  conversa- 
tion, which  lasted  very  late,  and  was  at  last  interrupted 
by  a  message  ft'om  the  governor,  requesting  to  see  his 
niece  below. 

]Mi*s.  Deschapples  did  not  return,  but  I  was  not  incon- 
solable, as  both  the  house  and  its  inmates  furnished  sub- 
jects for  observation,  which  I  was  not  loth  to  exercise. 

The  day  was  one  unusually  warm  for  the  season.  The 
sands  of  the  coasts  were  hot,  the  earth  seemed  parched, 
and  the  twigs  of  the  trees  snapped  with  a  brittle  di-yness. 
The  air  above  was  unrefreshed  by  a  single  cloud,  and  the 
hills,  clothed  in  many  colored  fohage  from  base  to  summit, 
afforded  not  a  single  breeze  to  the  arid  fields  below. 
Anxiety  was  afloat  the  whole  day  at  Port  E\elyn.  Kein- 
forcements  exiDCcted  had  not  arrived.  Scouts  had  been 
kept  all  day  on  the  watch,  and  it  was  reported  that  Col- 
onel Berkley  had  been  up  four  times,  on  top  of  the 
houses  with  a  telescope,  and  each  time  had  come  down, 
looking  no  better  pleased  than  when  he  went  up. 


354  RENSHAWE 

On  one  of  these  occasions  I  had  ocnlar  and  auricular 
proof.  Colonel  Berkley  had  just  descended  when  Chives 
met  him  in  the  gallery. 

"It's  the  most  useless  thing  in  the  world,  Berkley,  to 
look  for  people  that  don't  come." 

"It's  a  very  natui-al  thing,  sir,"  rejoined  the  colonel. 

These  to  me  were  indications  plain  enough  that  help 
was  needed,  and  I  did  not  note  them  with  regret.  I  had 
already  looked  with  jealous  eyes  on  the  stacks  of 
muskets,  pyramidal  piles  of  balls,  and  field-guns,  includ- 
ing the  six  pieces  captured  with  me,  that  filled  the  yard 
to  the  utmost  capacity.  My  ear  was  vexed,  in  passing 
the  doors  of  the  corner  room,  to  hear  the  incessant  rat- 
tle of  papers,  and  refrain  in  the  reader's  voice, — "  pounds 
of  shot" — "kegs  of  powder" — "cases  of  muskets" — 
"cartridges" — as  the  invoices  were  repeated  and  cor- 
rected. I  had  not  seen  Berkley  since  the  morning,  and 
being  very  tired  of  the  house,  I  strolled  out  for  a  walk. 
^The  sentinel  was  talking  to  a  man  at  the  gate,  and  I  was 
going  quietly  through,  when  a  bayonet  was  thrust  sud- 
denly in  front  of  me,  to  the  great  peril  of  my  shawl,  and 
a  voice  demanded :  "  Pass-word,  ma'am,  give  the  pass- 
word." 

It  was  the  same  soldier  who  had  acted  as  my  guard  on 
the  previous  evening.  I  stated  that  I  knew  the  pass- 
word, and  asked  to  go  on. 

"  My  orders  is,  not  to  let  no  one  pass  athout  they  sajs 
it,  ma'am,"  rej)lied  the  soldier. 

"  Manassas  Gap,"  said  I.  The  soldier  at  once  swung 
back  the  gate  and  permitted  my  exit. 

I  fluctuated,  at  first,  between  the  wood  and  the  river  ; 
the  heat  of  the  day  decided  me  in  favor  of  the  fii'st,  and 
I  was  soon  in  the  cool  shade  of  the  forest,  though  not 
out  of  sight  of  my  prison  walls.  I  could  plainly  discern 
the  figures  at  the  windows,  on  the  roof  and  balconies, 


PORT  EVELYN.  ^^"^ 

and  the  lounging  soldiers  lazily  smoking  in  the  yard.  I 
seated  myself  on  a  low  bank  overgrown  with  moss,  where 
I  gave  myself  up  to  a  consideration  of  the  vicissitudes 
that  had  marked  the  last  days  o£  my  eventful  career. 
A  rustle  close  in  the  thicket  startled  me.  I  sprang  up 
and  was  about  running  back  as  fast  asm  fears  could  impel 
me,  when  a  low  voice  with  the  words  "Miss  Renshawe" 
arrested  me.  As  I  looked  around,  a  man  emerged  from 
the  bushes  whom  I  at  once  recognized  as  the  zouave 
EHsha. 

"How  in  the  world  came  you  here  !"  I  exclaimed.     "If 
you  were  to  be  seen  from  the  house  you  would  be  cap- 
tured by  the  rebels.     The  country  is  full  of  them.     Fly !" 
"  Kentry's  full  o'  suthin  else,"  said  EHsha  dehberately, 
"  as  well  as  rebels.     I'm  out  a-scoutin.  Miss   Renshawe. 
I've  jined  a  new  rigiment  and  got  a  new  colonel." 
"  You  came  here  purposely  then,"  said  I. 
«  To  be  sure,  I  did.     My  rigiment's  not  very  far  fi'om 
here;  I  expect  to  get  back  afore  a  gi^eat  whHe.     What's 
they  got  up  there  under  that  great  spread  o'  white  can- 
vas ?    Needn't  be  kiveren'  up  so  karful— won't  keep  it  long." 
I  looked  back  at  the  building.     The  canvas  of  several 
tents  had  been  stretched  across  the  gun  carriages,  which 
were  thus  effectually  concealed. 

"  Needn't  tell — I  know,"  said  Elisha  sententiously ;  "  I 
seed  they  wus  guns  afore  they  got  'em  blanketed.  Seems 
to  me  it's  a  cussed  shm  set  o'  men  they  got  to  take  care 
of  so  much  ammunition." 

"They  are  expecting  reinforcements  to-day,"  said  I. 
EHsha  laughed.     Just  then  I  caught  sight  of  a  figure 
in  a  uniform  at  the  edge  of  the  wood.    EHsha  immediate- 
ly disappeared  in   the  thicket.     The   soldier   advanced 
looking  hard  at  the  bushes,  but  the  scout  was  gone. 

"  The  colonel  sent  me  to  look  for  you,  ma'am,"  said  the 
soldier,  suspiciously,  as  though  he  thought  it  an  advisable 


356  RENSHAWE. 

measure  on  the  part  of  the  colonel.     The  guard  wore  a 
peculiarly  troubled  look  as  I  passed  the  gate." 

"If  you  i^lease,  ma'am,"  said  he,  "would  you  be  kind 
enough  to  mention  to  the  colonel,  ma'am,  that  you  gave 
me  the  pass- word  ?" 

"  Certainly,"  said  I;  "  I  hope  you  do  not  apprehend  any 
blame  from  the  colonel  ?" 

"  Lord  bless  you,  ma'am !"  said  the  poor  fellow,  quite 
disturbed,  "I  don't  know  what  minute  I'll  get  shot 
ma'am.  It's  only  last  night,  ma'am,  the  colonel  hauled 
me  over  the  coals,  like  a  thousand  of  brick  for  leaving  you 
while  I  got  my  supper.  I  tole  him,  says  I,  'I  left  the 
young  lady  a-talkin'  to  Cap'n  ^Tiipplestaff,  an'  I  knowed 
the  gates  wus  all  guarded,  an'  she  couldn't  got  away;'  but 
didn't  make  no  dijfference  about  that,  ma'am." 

""V\Tiy,"  said  I,  "the  colonel  paroled  me  last  evening." 
"  I  know,  ma'am,  an'  it  was  after  he  paroled  you  that  he 
gave  me  the  blowin'  up.  He  said  it'  was  a  first  offence, 
so  he'd  pass  it  over;  but  I  wusn't  to  leave  a  prisoner 
again  if  it  was  with  President  Davis  ;  and  now  I've  let 
you  through  the  gates,  ma'am,  when  I  hadn't  orter,  and 
I'll  get  shot  as  sure  as  guns,  ma'am,  unless  you'll  have 
the  condescension,  ma'am,  to  mention  about  the  pass- 
word; if  they  asks  and  if  they  doesn't  ask  it's  no  matter." 
I  went  in  with  many  forebodings.  Just  inside  the  hall, 
was  the  Governor.  Instantly  came  the  question ;  "  Madam, 
who  fui'nished  you  the  pass-word  ?" 

"  I  heard  it  this  morning,  sii',  from  Colonel  Berkley." 
"  He  gave  it  to  you,  did  he  ?" 

"No  sir — I  was  talking  to  him  this  morning  in  the 
room  where  the  secretaries  were,  and  one  of  the  spies 
came  in  and  asked  the  password." 
'' Spies  r 

I  had  not  intended  to  say  *  spies,'  but  the  thought  in 
my  heai^t  had  escaped  my  hps  unawares. 


rORT  EVELYN-  357 

"  One  of  the  young  ladies,  sir,"  I  added  in  no  little 
confusion.  "  Slie  inquired  tlie  pass-word,  and  Colonel 
Berkley  said  Manassas  Gap." 

"  It  was  not  the  clerk  who  said  it  ?" 

"  No  sir— he  had  gone  out.  Colonel  Berkley  had  just 
sent  him  out  to  see  about  the  sappers  and  miners' 
musketoons." 

Chives  muttered  something  sounding  hke  "sappers 
and  miners'  devil;"  but  as  the  questions  were  apparently 
ended,  I  moved  away  to  the  balconies,  where  I  gave  a 
smiling  incHnation  on  catching  the  eye  of  the  guard, 
who  received  it  with  a  stohd  face,  and  reassured  soul. 
"When  I  came  back,  the  Governor  and  Colonel  Berkley 
were  just  at  the  foot  of  the  circular  stairs,  leading  off 
from  the  stone  floor  of  the  haU.  I  was  forced  to  hear 
a  few  words  before  I  could  get  theu'  attention,  or  pass  to 
the  staircase.  Chives  was  speaking:  "You  can't  expect 
a  woman  to  know  what  a  parole  is,  Berkley." 

"It's  of  very  little  consequence,"  said  Berkley,  in  a 
nonchalant  tone,  "whether  she  knows  or  not." 

"My  dear  feUow,"  said  the  governor,  "Good  has  just 
handed  me  a  paper  found  in  her  trunk  at  Kichmond, 
clothing  her  with  authority  to  act  as  a  spy  for  the  United 

States." 

Chives  took  out  his  pocket-book,  and  submitted  the 

document  to  Berkley. 

"There's  no  proof  that  the  proposal  was  accepted," 
replied  Berkley,  taking  possession  of  the  paper.  "  At  all 
events,  she  has  not  the  power  to  harm  us,  only  the  dispo- 
sition." 

"A  most  infernal  disposition,  if  one  may  judge  by 
her  eyes,"  said  Chives,  with  a  shrug  of  the  shoulders. 

"  Yes  ;  a  very  bad  eye,"  rephed  Berkley. 

The  governor  shook  his  head,  remarked  that  they 
could  not  be  too  careful,  and  went  to  the  door  to  inspect 


358  RENSHAWR 

the  cause  of  some  new  uproar  without.  As  Berkley  was 
unfolding  my  credentials,  I  attempted  to  pass '  him  un- 
noticed, but  in  vain  ;  I  was  seen. 

"Miss  Renshawe,  where  have  you  been?" 
I  said  I  had  been  taking  a  short  walk  in  the  woods. 
"I  want  you  to  keep  within  doors." 
The  tone  was  one  of  severity.     I  answered  submissively 
that  I  would  obey,  and  went  above-stairs.     At  the  first 
circle  of  the  spii'al  flight,  I  stopped,  wondering  whether 
I  ought  not  to  say  something  to  him  about  the  innocence 
of  the  sentinel,  when  Berkley  signaled  a  soldier  going 
through  the  haU,  and  said  to  him  : 

"  "Who  was  it  that  I  sent  out  in  search  of  that  young 
lady  just  now  ?" 

"One  of  Good's  men,  sir.  I  don't  know  his  name." 
"Find  him,  and  send  him  to  me  in  the  basement." 
I  had  akeady  half  formed  a  resolve  to  disclose  to 
Berkley  my  recent  meeting  with  Ehsha,  had  hesi- 
tated in  the  fear  of  imperiling  the  safety  of  the  zouave, 
and  had  thought  it  well  to  take  time  for  consideration. 
But  it  was  now  too  late  for  that  measure,  had  I  decided 
on  it,  as  Berkley  was  investigating  matters  for  himself, 
and  probably  would  not  value  any  gratuitous  information 
on  my  part.  Besides,  I  concluded  it  was  not  my  duty  to 
give  it,  and  should  he  send  for  me  I  would  adhere  in  a 
general  way  to  the  statement  that  I  had  abided  by  the 
terms  of  my  parole,  without  revealing  the  recent  presence 
of  a  scout  at  the  camp. 

But  no  summons  came.  I  was  quite  alone  for  what 
remained  of  daylight,  and  through  the  atmosphere,  that 
seemed  to  smoke  with  the  imusual  drought,  watched  the 
shadow  of  the  low  mountains  on  the  river's  eastern 
bank  rounding  up  toward  the  north  upon  the  waters, 
and  amused  myself  in  fixing  the  angle  it  would  reach 
before  its  disappearance  in  the  darkness. 


PORT  EVELYN.  359 

Night  came  at  last;  I  saw  the  sun  go  down  among  the 
pines,  and  the  shadows,  all  the  shadows  descended 
sombre  and  heavy  on  the  hills,  with  their  vast  forests  and 
the  plains  lying  on  the  southern  slope,  so  di-eary  in  their 
desolation.  The  sheeted  cannons  below  the  window 
were  scarcely  visible  in  the  gloom,  and  nothing  was 
distinguishable  aside  from  the  movements  of  the  horses, 
the  gleam  of  the  dim  lights  about  the  courtyard,  and 
the  clang  of  a  gate  with  the  return  or  exit  of  a  scout. 
"  I  want  you  to  keep  within  doors." 
I  uttered  these  words  aloud,  only  to  rid  my  mind  of 
them,  for  they  had  formed  the  undertide  of  my  thoughts 
since  they  were  spoken.  Such  a  needless  rebuke,  and  I 
had  not  deserved  it.  Whose  fault  was  it  that  I  knew  the 
pass-word  ? 

A  knocking  at  the  door  of  the  room  had  been  protract- 
ed for  some  time,  before  it  attracted  my  attention.  Mrs. 
Deschapples  was  there. 

"  All  dark — and  the  door  fast.  I  thought  I  heard  you 
talking?" 

"  Only  to  myself,  and  only  one  sentence." 
"  Well,  my  dear,  I  would  not  advise  you  to  talk  much 
to  yourself  on  these  premises,  especially  if  sad  thoughts 
are  predominant." 

"  You  seem  sad  yourself,"  I  remarked. 
"  I  frankly  confess,  my  dear  Miss  Eenshawe,  that  no 
one  here  is  in  good  spirits  to-night.  We  have  expected 
Colonel  Berkley's  regiment  to-day,  in  charge  of  Major 
Davis,  and  it  has  not  come.  My  uncle  is  deeply  troubled, 
for  though  we  are  many  miles  from  the  enemy,  still 
dangers  may  surround  us  too  suddenly  to  be  averted. 
This  place  is  held  only  by  one  company  of  men,  and  a 
small  force  under  Captain  Good  lately  deserted  from  the 
enemy." 

After  a  little  discussion  of  the  dehnquent  reinforce- 


360  EENSHAWE. 

ments,  Mrs.  Deschapples  informed  me  that  she  and  I 
were  the  only  ladies  remaining  in  the  house,  all  the 
emissaries  having  gone  during  the  day. 

"  My  uncle  wants  us  to  join  him  at  supper,"  proceeded 
my  companion,  "  and  I  have  come  for  you." 

"  You  must  be  mistaken,"  said  I,  quite  astonished. 
"I  think  I  am  the  last  person  under  this  roof  whom 
Governor  Chives  would  be  at  all  Hkely  to  invite." 

"He  said  explicitly,  'ask  IMiss  Eenshawe  to  do  me 
that  honor' — there  was  no  mistake,  my  dear,  I  assure 
you." 

I  experienced  quite  a  sensation  of  relief;  but  was  still 
a  httle  dubious  of  my  reception,  and  did  not  cease  to 
wonder  at  the  meaning  of  the  invitation,  while  following 
Mrs.  Deschapples  through  a  labyi^inth  of  muskets  in  the 
hall,  to  the  room  below,  in  which  I  had  sat  among  the 
transient  company  of  females  the  evening  before.  There 
was  a  small  table  set  with  covers  for  four.  Chives  was 
awaiting  us.     One  attendant  stood  a  little  back. 

"You  are  Alice  Ludlow's  cousin,"  said  the  governor, 
stopping  me  at  the  door.  I  acknowledged  the  relation- 
ship.     "So  Alice  told  my  niece  this  morning." 

"Does  that  fact  weigh  in  my  favor  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Certainly — the  blackest  abolitionist  that  Satan  ever 
dyed,  would  look  a  little  whiter  for  it.  There's  a  truce 
between  us,  IVIiss  Eenshawe.  I  won't  answer  for  anybody 
else,  but  we'll  waive  the  cannons  and  the  exploit  at  Blue 
Hills,  as  far  as  we  are  concerned."  During  this  speech 
the  governor  had  gathered  up  my  hand,  and  led  me 
across  the  room,  where  I  was  bidden  to  take  my  place 
op230site  Mi's.  Deschapples,  while  he  seated  himself  at 
the  head  of  the  table;  which  was  spread  with  a  frugal 
repast  of  cold  meat,  stale  bread  and  melons.  After  these 
few  words  of  welcome,  Cliives's  brow  grew  very  overcast 
again,  and  seemingly  he  forgot  all  about  me.  One  place 
was  still  vacant. 


rORT  EYELYN.  861 

"Stop,  Dan,"  no  more  coals  on  that  fire — put  up  a 
screen,  and  then  call  Colonel  Berkley.  He'll  come;  he's 
had  no  dinner." 

The  doors  were  closed  on  the  colonel's  appearance. 
We  were  a  very  quiet  party.  Berkley  was  more  pre-oc- 
cupied  than  I  had  ever  known  him.  He  finished  his 
supper  nearly  as  soon  as  the  rest  had  begun, — from  which, 
as  it  consisted  of  two  or  three  morsels,  I  judged  his  mind 
was  suffering  under  some  unusual  weight;  in  answer  to 
Mrs.  Deschapples's  inquiries,  said  that  he  was  quite  well 
but  not  hungTy,  and  devoted  himself  to  the  New  York- 
papers,  that  had  been  brought  in.  Chives,  who  sat  op- 
posite his  colleague,  looked  gloomy  as  the  grave. 

Mrs.  Deschapples  made  an  inquiry  that  had  occurred 
several  times  to  me.  "  Uncle,  what  would  you  do  if  the 
enemy  came  ?" 

"  Ask  Colonel  Berkley,"  said  Chives,  drily.  "  Berkley, 
what  would  you  do,  in  God's  name  ?" 

«  Fortify." 

Chives  uttered  an  impatient  ejaculation. 

"  What  could  be  done,  uncle  ?"  demanded  his  niece. 

"Nothing,  child,  nothing — we  are  unprotected." 

After  this  declaration  of  defencelessness,  there  was 
another  long  pause.  Chives  cut  across  three  melons, 
which  Dan  carried  away  successively — a  fourth  was 
quartered  and  distributed.  Chives  looked  up  from  under 
his  clouded  brows,  and  spoke  at  last. 

"  When  was  the  last  scout  in  from  Massanoonga, 
Berkley?" 

"At  seven  o'clock." 

"  And  no  one  from  Coal  Kiver  Marshes,  yet  ?" 

"No." 

Some  more  silence,  during  which  Chives  gave  occasional 
intimation  of  his  uneasiness,  by  a  shake  of  the  head  and 
low-toned  surmises.  It  was  not  long  before  he  spoke 
again. 


362  EENSHAWE. 

"  Something's  the  matter  at  Coal  Eiver  Marshes, 
Berkley.  Adams  is  always  on  time.  Haven't  heard 
from  there  since  sunset,  have  we  ?" 

"  No." 

"  Why  don't  you  station  some  one  nearer  to  us,"  said 
Mrs.  Deschapples,  "to  provide  for  a  sui'prise." 

"Lord  bless  you,  child,"  said  her  uncle,  "some  one 
been  stationed  this  hour ;  all  we  could  spare,  eh  Berkley  ?" 

"  AMiipplestaft'  is  down  at  Mount  Boon  with  a  corporal's 
^"lard,"  replied  the  colonel.  "He  reports  every  ten 
minutes." 

"Why  didn't  you  send  Good?"  asked  the  governor. 

"  Can't  trust  him." 

"Well,  you're  right;  he's  an  infernal  Yankee,"  Chives 
responded. 

Again  we  were  a  silent  quartette.  A  soldier  stopped 
at  the  open  door.  Chives  showed  of  what  he  had  been 
thinking,  by  exclaiming  :  "  Here  he  is  now." 

"  Well,  Adams?"  said  Berkley. 

"All  right."  Adams  reported  nothing  stirring  at  Coal 
Eiver  Marshes — the  village  was  peaceful.  He  had  been 
delayed  by  a  bridge,  and  was  once  lost  in  the  woods. 
After  this  ample  exj^lanation  had  been  given,  Adams  was 
dismissed  to  his  own  supper  below. 

The  air  of  uneasiness  disappeared  fi'om  the  face  of  the 
party.  Chives  and  his  niece  conversed  on  difierent 
topics,  and  Berkley  still  leaned  over  the  newspapers 
silent  and  motionless. 

It  was  eight  o'clock,  as  'Mrs.  Deschapples  had  just 
announced  to  the  company,  when  the  door  was  suddenly 
opened  by  one  of  the  soldiers. 

"Colonel  Berkley,"  said  he,  "there's  a  lady  below 
insists  on  seeing  you.  She  has  ridden  all  the  way  from 
Massanoonga,  and  her  horse  is  nearly  killed." 

Before  any  one  could  stii*  or  speak,  there  came  a  sudden 


rOIlT  E\TELYN.  363 

rush  along  the  hall,  and  a  lady  in  a  long  riding  habit, 
bedi-aggled  with  mud,  dashed  into  the  room;  throwing 
back  the  veil  from  her  black  crape  cap,  and  reveahng  a 
face  deadly  pale  with  excitement. 

"  Colonel  Berkley— Colonel  Berkley— gentlemen,"  she 
gasped,  "  you  are  all  betrayed.  A  Federal  force  is  on 
the  way  fi'om  Massanoonga,  to  take  Port  Evelyn  to-night. 

It  was  Mrs.  Lionel  Hervey. 


CHAPTER  XXXVm. 

OLONEL  BERKLEY  directed  the  soldier  to 
:^  close  the  door — then  he  assisted  IVIrs.  Hervey  to 
a  chair,  just  vacated  at  the  table.  Mrs.  Des- 
chapples  removed  the  veil  from  her  ghastly  face,  while 
Chives  groped  among  the  decanters  at  the  table,  pouring 
wine  with  one  hand  and  water  with  the  other. 

"  Oh  Lord!"  groaned  he,  "I  thought  this  would  be  the 
end  of  it.  I've  been  expecting  it  all  day.  I  told  you  so, 
Berkley,  I  told  you  of  it." 

Berkley  was  giving  some  undertoned  directions  to  the 
soldiers,  among  which  I  distinguished:  "Take  the 
horse  saddled  under  the  walnut  tree  by  the  howitzers, 
ride  to  Mount  Boon,  and  tell  Captain  T^Hiipplestaff  to  go 
down  to  the  river  and  wait.  I'll  send  a  boat  for  him,  and 
say  to  Gedney  to  get  ready  horses  for  six." 

The  soldier  went  out,  and  Chives  went  on :  "I  told  you 
of  it;  I  warned  you.  Now  then,  young  man,  it's  your 
time  to  fortify." 

"  Fortify,"  cried  Mrs.  Hervey,  "you  can't."  She  started 
up  excitedly.  "  You  must  not  dream  of  defence.  You 
can  but  just  escape  with  your  lives — your  life."  And  she 
looked  up  at  Berkley  with  an  air,  that  made  this  appeal 
quite  particular. 


864  eensha^t:. 

"Life!"  echoed  Berkley,  " Nonsense !  what's  my  life 
comj^ared  to  all  this  ammunition  ?"     He  walked  oK 

"  Exactly,"  said  Chives;  "  what  a  haul  for  them  ;  all 
these  field-pieces.  When  did  you  leave  Massanoonga, 
]\Ii'S.  Hervey?" 

"  About  one  horn-  since.  For  Heaven's,  sake  don't  stop 
to  ask  me  questions  now.  That  troop  of  soldiers  cannot 
be  more  than  one  hour  later." 

"  How  many  strong  ?" 

"I  do  not  know,  but  they  think  you  have  a  thousand 
men  here,  and  say  they  have  enough  to  capture  all." 

"We  might  have  held  the  place  against  a  legion. 
Berkley,  go  up  to  the  roof,  and  see  if  Davis  is  coming. 
Blast  Davis  ! — he's  a  traitor." 

"Xo  matter  about  that,  my  dear  uncle,"  said  'Mrs. 
Deschapples,  "Mrs.  Hervey  tells  you  you  have  no  time 
for  that.  Leave  the  ammunition  and  make  your 
escape!" 

"Eight  miles,"  said  Chives  reflectively,  "nearer  nine. 
Berkley,  where  the  devil  has  he  gone  !  Oh  there  you  are; 
Lord  help  us  I  studying  a  chart !  Lord  he's  gone  crazy. 
"WTiat  the  deuce  is  he  doing  now — Berkley!" 

Berkley  had  just  opened  the  window,  looked  out,  and 
turned  back  to  the  company  at  this  appeal 

"I  was  trying  to  find  out  which  way  the  wind  is.  Did 
you  notice,  ]\L.\  Hervey  ?" 

"  Li  my  face  all  the  way." 

"  You  came  through  the  woods  ?" 

"  I  did." 

"  Eight  miles,"  Chives  repeated,  as  the  colonel  disap- 
peared, "^and  a  slow  march  across  the  hills  in  the  dark. 
They  won't  get  here  in  two  hours  from  now,  gi-anting 
they  left  Massanoonga  when  you  did.  "Well,  we  must 
get  ready  for  them  in  some  way — do  all  we  can  with  an 
untenable  post.     What  do  you  want  here,  Scott  ?" 


PORT  EVELYN.  365 

"  I  came  to  tell  Colonel  Berkley  the  liorses  were  ready?" 

"  Colonel  Berkley !  He's  not  here.  Gone  out  to  see 
w  hich  way  the  wind  is,  I  suppose.  You  may  look  for  him 
r^  the  weathercock." 

Berldey  came  in.  "  All  in  the  saddle,  Scott  ;"  and  he 
took  his  overcoat  from  the  wall. 

"  So,  colonel,  you've  made  up  your  mind  to  run,"  said 
Chives. 

"Eun?" 

"  Certainly;  nothing  for  us  to  do  on  the  face  of  God's 
footstool  but  run.  I'm  going  to  run  and  take  the  ladies, 
and  you're  going  first,  it  seems." 

"  Now,  then,  governor,"  said  Berkley,  heedless  of  this 
reflection,  "  I  beg  you'll  get  all  the  powder  into  the  south- 
ern quarter  of  the  building.  Have  all  the  doors  and 
windows  boarded  immediately.     Good-evening  " 

Chives  stopped  him  at  the  door.  "  Tor  heaven's  sake 
don't  detain  me.  I'm  going  down  to  fire  the  woods. 
That's  all  I  can  do.  Exert  yourself  here  at  once.  Time 
presses." 

He  ran  down  the  stairway.  Chives  moved  like  a  man 
just  awake.     "  Come,  all  hands !     the  windows  ! 

His  voice  died  away  on  the  staii'S  below,  and  for  the 
next  hour  kegs  and  barrels  were  thundering  along  be- 
low in  every  direction. 

By  ten  o'clock  all  the  hills  north  of  Post  Evelyn  were 
enveloped  in  a  mass  of  living  flame. 


CHAPTER   XXXIX. 


'E  sat  on  the  roof  and  watched  it — Mrs.  Deschap- 
ples,  Mrs.  Hervey,  and  I.  A  blazing  column  shot 
up  first  through  the  woods  opposite  the  road  to 


366  TiENSHAWE. 

Massanoonga.  Another  lurid  line  rose  in  the  direction 
of  Mount  Boon,  and  a  third  cut  off  the  avenue  to  Coal 
River  Marshes.  Flames  appeared  at  intervals  towards 
the  west,  and  those  before  us  shortly  spread  and  ran 
together. 

The  spectacle  was  one  of  sui-passing  gi-andeur.  The 
roar  of  the  fire  was  like  steady  thunder  on  the  hills,  and 
the  ascending  sheet  enveloiDed  them  fi'om  base  to  sum- 
mit, rising,  falling,  sinking,  leaping,  and  whirling  in  huge 
tongues  and  wi'eaths  before  the  wind,  overtopped  by 
a  dense  volume  of  smoke,  rolling  up  into  the  immensity 
of  a  dense,  black  ocean. 

We  were  joined  at  midnight  by  Captain  Whipplestaff. 
Mrs.  Hervey's  admiration  up  to  this  time  had  been  of  the 
absorbing  nature  that  does  not  admit  much  conversation, 
but  on  this  new  occasion  she  remarked  that  it  was  a 
splendid  fire. 

"  You  wouldn't  considah  it  quite  so  spwendid  if  you 
wall  on  the  othah  side  of  it,"  said ^Tiipplestaff.  "I  nevah 
was  so  fwightened  in  all  my  life.  I  got  down  by  the  wivah, 
and  we  all  in  the  boat,  and  the  hawth  swimming,  and  the 
smoke  was  so  thick  we  were  neahly  suftbcated." 

"Did  you  see  anvthing  of  the  enemy?" 

"  Couldn't  see  anything  in  the  smoke.  Besides  that, 
the  hawth  upset  us,  and  we  were  all  dwenched;  but  when 
we  got  home  we  had  suppah.  Had  a  suppah  of  shad. 
Vewy  nice,  shad  is,  when  a  man's  hungwy.  SujDpose 
this  fiah  will  burn  ujd  all  the  shad  in  the  wivah." 

"  ^\Tiere  is  Colonel  Berkley  ?"  asked  ^Irs.  Deschapples. 

"I  don't  know.  The  last  time  I  saw  him,  he  was 
uncawking  a  bottle  of  v^-ine.  Oh,  he's  with  the  govah- 
nah." 

"  I  should  think  he  would  want  to  look  at  the  fire," 
said  ^Ii's.  Hervey. 

*'  Well,  they're  vewy  busy,  to-night.    There's  a  messen- 


PORT  EVELYN.  367 

gah  from  Major  Da\is.  "We've  seen  fiahs  out  on  the 
pwaiwies  and  in  the  backwoods.  One  gets  tiahed  of 
fiahs  in  the  cwearhwings.  Deah  me,  I  saw  fiah  enough 
in  the  boat,  and  sinoke  too.  Theah's  a  spy  among  us 
somewheahs.  Good  says  communication  was  held  to-day 
in  the  woods  with  the  enemy." 

"  He  ought  to  mention  that  to  the  Colonel,"  Mrs.  Des- 
chapples  exclaimed. 

"  I  mentioned  it  to  the  colonel,"  said  Captain  Whip- 
plestaff,  while  we  weah  at  suppah,  and  it  seems  the 
colonel  knew  it.  He  told  me  to  keep  still  about  it,  and 
told  Good,  too,  for  it  seems  he  doesn't  want  the  govah- 
nah  to  heah  about  it  till  he  has  thowoughly  inwestigated 
the  matt  ah.  The  enemy  are  nicely  fixed.  There's  a 
gweat  wivah  each  side  of  them  now.  No  boats,  and  the 
bwidges  all  burnt.  They  cant  cwoss,  and  a  fiah  that  they 
can't  appwoach,  unless  they  ah  salamandahs.  It  wiU 
deway  them,  you  see,  and  deway  is  all  we  want." 

I  was  not  a  little  alarmed  by  that  divis^ion  of  Captain 
Whipplestaff's  remarks  relating  to  the  spj^,  and  brooded 
over  them  so  studiously  that  I  did  not  notice  the  govern- 
or's arrival  on  the  roof,  until  he  stood  close  at  my  side. 
But  Chives  was  too  full  of  anxieties  about  the  wind  to 
think  of  anything  else.  He  went  to  the  turn  beyond  the 
tower  every  minute,  to  consult  the  weathercock,  in  con- 
stant dread  lest  the  wnnd  would  change,  and  in  that  case 
the  smoke  would  be  too  intolerable  for  a  soul  to  remain 
in  the  place. 

"We  can  cwose  up  the  windahs,"  Whipplestaff  sug- 
gested, "and  the  daws;  then  we  can  bweathe  the  aih  in 
the  house  a  while.  But  it  won't  happen  all  at  once,  gov- 
ahnah.  Wind  won't  change  wight  wound,  this  way,  with- 
out a  warning,  will  it  ?" 

"  It  does  occasionally,"  said  the  governor.  "  ^Miirls 
straight  about  to  the  opposite  side  of  the  compass.     But 


368  RENSHAWE. 

Colonel  Berkley  may  have  some  charm  against  the  smoke 
for  aught  I  know." 

Mrs.  Deschapples  had  been  in  the  meantime  informing 
me  aside  what  an  intriguing,  unprincipled  woman  Mrs. 
Hervey  was,  but  she  should  find  herself  cu'cumvented. 
Mrs.  Deschapples  would  take  care  that  Berkley  should 
not.  speak  to  her  that  night." 

I  was  rather  inchned  to  sympathize.  The  flames  raged 
on  unsubdued  in  intensity.  The  same  hot  air  \isited  my 
face,  the  same  glaring  hght  threw  its  feverish  hue  over 
the  countenances  of  the  company. 

"  Heigho,  Berkley,"  said  the  governor,  as  that  gentle- 
man issued  from  the  watch-tower.  "  You're  come  at  last 
to  glance  at  the  fire-works." 

Berkley  had  stopped  to  exchange  a  word  with  IMrs. 
Hervey.  The  governor  renewed  his  congratulations. 
Providence  had  saved  the  ammunition,  for  if  the  wind 
had  not  been  right,  and  the  trees  had  not  been  rainless 
and  dewless  for  so  many  days,  the  arsenal  would  have 
been  in  the  hands  of  the  enemy. 

"  Sooner  than  that,"  rejoined  Berkley,  "  I  would  have 
blown  the  house  up,  and  myself  with  it." 

"  Suicide,"  said  ]Mrs.  Hervey,  gently. 

"  Self-immolation  is  not  always  suicide,"  rejoined  the 
rebel  officer. 

"  And  when  self-immolation  is  not  suicide,"  said  Mrs. 
DeschapjDles,  "  which  means  when  one  dares  death,  or 
meets  it  for  a  principle,  it  deserves  immortahty." 

The  ill-fated  commander  of  the  Westfield  had  not  yet 
accomphshed  his  self-immolation  at  Galveston,  or  I 
might  have  told  Colonel  Berkle}^  that  it  rested  with  a 
Penshawe  so  to  immortalize  an  already  honorable  name. 

Mrs.  Deschax^ples  had  gone  off  with  Colonel  Berkley  in 
triumph  cf  soul,  as  I  needed  httle  sldU  to  divine.  I  saw 
them  walking  up  and  down  together  on  the  opposite  bat- 


PORT  EVELYN.  309 

tlements,  and  looked  after  them  with  undefined  satisfac- 
tion. Mrs.  Hervey  scarcely  turned  her  head  in  that 
direction,  and  appeared  serene  and  untroubled.  But  my 
own  soul  was  in  a  state  of  great  perturbation.  Berkley 
had  not  spoken  to  me  when  I  joined  the  party  on  the 
housetop.  After  the  first  distant  bow,  he  had  not  even 
looked  at  me,  and  to  my  great  chagrin,  I  recalled  the 
last  words  he  had  addi'essed  to  me  in  his  peremptory 
mandate  the  previous  afternoon.  Was  it  accidental,  this 
behavior,  or  was  it  the  result  of  distrust  and  contempt  ? 
The  sound  of  the  horn  called  me  to  myself.  Captain 
■Whipplestafl:  was  announcing  to  Mrs.  Hervey  that  the 
sun  was  up,  and  would  shortly  be  visible  over  the  hill. 

The  sun  was  up.  It  dimmed  the  flames  rolling  do^vn 
on  the  hills,  and  relieved  their  lurid  glare  by  the  unmis- 
takable light  of  day.  I  had  taken  refuge  at  one  of  the 
windows  of  the  hall.  There  was  a  horseman  at  the  gates 
who  looked  tired  and  travel-soiled,  and  who  did  not 
gain  admittance  until  after  considerable  parley.  He  had 
ridden  into  the  outer  yard,  dismounted,  and  actually 
reached  the  hall  door,  before  I  recognized  Captain  Walby. 
It  was  too  late  to  retreat,  and  I  awaited  his  next  move  in 
absolute  consternation.  Captain  Walby  stopped  short  as 
he  saw  me,  but  a  suspicious  lifting  of  the  eye-brows,  and 
caress  of  the  sword-hilt,  was  the  only  recognition. 

"Where's  Colonel  Berkley?"  he  said  to  Good,  who  was 
in  the  hall. 

"  On  the  top  of  the  house,  sir.  Go  straight  up  stairs 
to  the  watch-tower,  and  you'll  come  out  on  the  roof." 
Walby  waited  no  further  direction,  but  darted  up  the 
staircase  rapidly.  The  battlements  were  in  full  view  from 
the  stand  I  had  taken.  I  saw  Mrs.  Deschapples  and 
Berkley  stopped  in  their  promenade  by  the  lately-arrived 
officer.  If  I  could  have  known  whether  Captain  Walby 
had  yet  spoken  of  me !    perhaps  he  had  not  thought  of 


o70  RENSHAT^-E. 

me  again.  The  two  gentlemen  had  disappeared  at  the 
watch-tower.  Mrs.  Deschapples  came  down  and  joined 
me.  She  said  Walby  had  just  come  from  Col.  Himter 
with  some  important  intelligence,  and  that  Colonel  Berk- 
ley's regiment,  in  charge  of  Major  Da\is,  would  be  there 
in  the  course  of  the  morning.  Colonel  Berkley  and 
Walby  had  gone  to  the  Eastern  di'a wing-room,  and  had 
sent  for  Governor  Chives  and  Captain  "VMiipplestaff. 

Orders  were  soon  jDromiilgated.  A  general  stir  took 
place,  and  the  soldiers  began  to  lead  out  and  harness  the 
horses,  and  disentangle  the  wagons  and  gun-carriages 
fr'om  the  coui'tyard.  I  soon  saw  that  the  business  of 
loading  was  in  rapid  progress,  and  !Mrs.  Deschapples  elu- 
cidated from  one  of  the  men  all  he  knew  about  it,  namely, 
that  the  commands  were  for  the  men  to  have  ever^-thing 
loaded  and  ready  to  start  before  the  breakfast  hour,  but 
when  they  were  going  the  soldier  could  not  for  the  life  of 
of  him  tell,  and  where  was  even  more  beyond  his  know- 
ledge. 

Ignorance  as  to  Captain  Walby's  comse  regarding  me 
was  not  left  to  me  very  long.  A  soldier  came  up  to  us 
while  we  were  inspecting  the  confusion  of  the  coui-t  yard, 
and  announced  that  the  governor  wished  to  see  Miss 
Renshawe. 

In  the  miserable  wish  of  gaining  time,  though  only 
one  second,  I  asked  where  the  governor  was.  Mrs.  Des- 
chajDples  bade  the  soldier  lead  the  way;  and  in  absolute 
agony  of  soul  I  went  to  the  room  where  ]Mi's.  Heiwey  had 
surprised  us  the  evening  before.  Chives  was  there,  Berk- 
ley, Walby  and  Captain  Whipplestaff,  seated  round 
the  table.     They  all  looked  at  me  hke  so  many  demons. 

"  Miss  Renshawe,"  said  Berkley,  "  will  you  have  the 
kindness  to  state  definitely  why  you  did  not  telegraph 
fr'om  Richmond  to  Charleston,  instead  of  waiting  tiH  you 
reached  Suffolk  ?" 


PORT  EVELYN.  371 

"Because,"  said  I,  "  I  feared  arrest  in  Kichmond  as  a 

"  Were  yoii  known  to  tlie  authorities  in  Richmond  as  a 

m" 

"  No,  but  the  paper  going  to  show  me  such  had  been 
inspected  and  its  nature  proclaimed  to  some,  persons 
who  might  mention  it  ?" 

"What  persons?" 

"  One  was  Captain  Walby,"  said  I,  looking  not  very 
lovingly  at  that  gentleman. 

"  How  was  Captain  Walby  to  endanger  you  when  he 
was  a  prisoner  in  Northern  hands  ?  " 

To  this  I  could  not  reply.. 

"  There  was  a  lady  with  you,"  Berkley  proceeded  ; 
"who  was  she?" 

"  Did  not  Captain  Walby  know  her  ?"  I  inquired. 

Captain  Walby  had  not  known  her.  "  Then,"  said  I, 
I  cannot  mention  her  name." 

I  felt,  the  next  instant,  that  Alice  might  not  have 
objected  to  my  revealing  her  identity  in  my  present 
emergency.     I  therefore  added  :  "  It  was  Alice  Ludlow." 

Mingled  incredulity  and  contempt  were  very  plain  on 
Berkley's  features.  Chives  took  out  his  pocket-book. 
"  There's  a  photograph  of  Miss  Ludlow.  Walby,  look  at 
it,  if  you  please." 

Walby  said  at  once  that  although  he  had  scarcely 
looked  at  the  lady  in  the  carriage,  he  was  ver}^  positive 
this  was  the  hkeness  of  another  person.  This  method  of 
investigation  made  me  exceedingly  indignant.  Chives 
took  up  the  thread  of  the  discourse. 

"  ^Vhat  man  was  that  you  were  conversing  with  in  the 
woods  yesterday  ?" 

"It  was  a  man  belonging  to  a  Northern  regiment," 
said  I;  "I  was  out  taking  a  walk,  and  met  him  by  ac- 
cident." » 


372  RENSHAWE. 

"  He  was  out  taking  a  walk  too,  I  suppose,"  sneered 
Chives;  "  botli  out  taking  a  walk  at  the  same  time." 

"  Governor  Chives,"  said  I,  "  I  told  him  nothing  that 
could'  injure  a  soul  in  this  house  !" 

"You  sjyoke  to  him,"  said  Chives,  "that's  enough. 
What  you  said  we  won't  ask  you — we  have  hardly  time 
to  listen  to  the  truth." 

" Then  you  will  hsten,"  said  I,  "to  my  protest  agaiast 
this  shameful  detention.  I  never  recognized  yet  your 
right  to  arrest,  or  to  parole,  or  to  pardon.  I  know,  and 
you  know  it  also,  that  you  belong  to  a  body  in  rebellion, 
whom  the  United  States  does  not  acknowledge  as  belli- 
gerent, and  whose  very  existence  it  ignores." 

"  Oh,  the  deuce  it  does,"  said  Chives !  "  that's  a  new 
doctrine,  and  rather  a  demonstrative  ignorance  on  the 
part  of  the  United  States.  However,  we  are  coming  at 
youi'  principles,  and  I  advise  Colonel  Berkley,  the  next 
time  he  gives  a  parole,  to  ask  the  prisoner's  views  on  the 
subject  of  honor  and  honesty  toward  a  body  who,  have 
no  rights,  because  they  resist  a  tyranny,  and  who,  when 
absolutely  ignored,  have  thrown  half  a  million  of  men 
into  arms,  and  convulsed  not  alone  the  United  States, 
but  all  the  world." 

"  Governor  Chives,"  said  I  hotly,  "  the  imputation  you 
throw  on  my  motives,  and  the  view  you  take  of  my 
conduct,  is  too  unjust  to  be  j)atiently  endured — I  repeat, 
I  reiterate  I  have  injui'ed  no  one  here.  Though  I  am 
imprisoned  by  pii-ates,  I  have  not  forgotten  the  weight 
of  a  promise,  and  have  kept  my  promise  most  rehgiously, 
though  it  was  made  to  a  Jew.  All  that  I  said  to  the  scout, 
when  he  remarked  that  few  men  were  here,  was  that 
you  would  soon  be  reinforced.  That  remark  conduced  to 
your  safety.  Governor  Chives." 

"  Oh,  that's  very  fine — among  our  best  friends  and 
g-uardians,  perhaxDS,   Miss  Kenshawe.      Colonel  Berkley 


POKT  ETELYN.  ^' ^ 

has  put  a  viper  on  Hs  hearth  that  seems  inclined  to  sting 
no  one  but  himself,  so  far." 

-  Sting !"  said  I,  passionately.  "  WiU  yon  explam  your- 

self  sir'" 

"Colonel  Berkley,"  Chives  continued,  "  lias  interceded 
for  you,  paroled  you,  and  protected  you  to  his  ownoncon- 
venience.  You  retort  by  calling  him  a  pirate  and  a  Jew. 
If  I  had  received  such  treatment  as  that,  I  should  thmk 

I  was  stung."  „,,,., 

This  representation,  given  with  the  effect  that  charac- 
terized the  governor's  lightest  appeals,  created  some 
compunction.  I  turned  to  the  power  he  alluded  to,  and 
said,  with  a  faltering  voice,  "Colonel  Berkley,  you  cannot 
think  me  so  ungrateful  and  dishonorable  as  to  betray  - 
Berkley's  look  of  careless  contempt  cut  me  to  the  very 

^°"  You  may  retire,"  he  said.  I  moved  to  obey,  but  before 
reaching  the  door  lost  seU-government  entirely,  and 
turned  suddenly  back,  while  the  blood  rushed  tumultu- 
ously  into  my  face. 

"Colonel  George  Berkley."  I  said,  "do  you  dare  o 
command  me  ?  Command  your  own  slaves,  if  you  will, 
but  there  is  no  law  in  heaven  or  earth  that  makes  you  my 

master."  ^.  ^ 

Chives  was  laughing.  In  fact,  they  all  were.  Come, 
Miss  Eenshawe,  have  done  with  this  tempest  m  a  tea- 
pot," said  the  governor. 

"Gentlemen  here.  Miss  Kcnshawe,"  said  the  superb 
Captain  Walby.  "  are  too  happy  to  recewe  commands  from 

Ifidies 

As  I  left  the  room  my  departure  was  followed  by  a  roar 
of  laughter.  "Lord!  that  girl's  rich!''  exclaimed  the 
governor.     "  Ha !  ha !     Walby,  give  me  Swift  s  dispatch. 


374  RENSHAWE. 


1 


CHAPTEK  XXVI. 

'0]\IPOSURE  was  vei-y  shortly  gained,  and  to 
await  the  next  developments  in  my  favor  or 
against  me,  I  had  sought  the  most  retired  quar- 
ter of  the  house  below.  This  was  on  the  piazza  running 
on  the  inside  of  a  hollow  square  formed  by  the  eastern 
wings  of  the  house.  From  this  point  I  had  a  full  \dew  of 
the  basements,  cool,  shaded  apartments,  set  with  long 
tables  appertaining  to  the  original  furniture  of  the  house, 
and  too  useful  to  be  devoted  to  the  general  destruction. 
Matters  there  went  on  regardless  of  all  that  was  transact- 
ing above  and  without.  The  negroes,  busied  with  their 
own  affaii'S,  cared  nothing  for  the  danger  of  the  situa- 
tion, for  all  the  bustle  in  the  court-yard,  where  the  sol- 
diers were  bucily  executing  their  latest  received  orders,* 
and  the  fire  raging  at  the  north,  which  was  quite  an  old 
story. 

Orion,  one  of  the  negroes  floui'ishing  in  the  estabHsh- 
ment,  had  been  busy  for  some  time  at  one  of  the  win- 
dows with  a  cap  full  of  blue  and  yellow  tobacco  wrappers, 
which  he  was  shtting  at  one  end  after  the  fashion  of 
motto-papers. 

"Dan,"  he  said  to  that  fellow-servant  who  had  just 
deposited  on  the  window  sill  a  boai'd  on  which  were  sev- 
eral tin  cups  full  of  coffee,  "  did  you  see  that  young  cul- 
lud  pusson  dat  opens  de  gate  fur  de  grocer's  cart  across 
de  way  ?" 

"No,  didn't  see  her,"  Dan  rejoined. 

"I'm  a-makin'  a  bokkay  for  her,"  Orion  annoimced. 

"  Dat  yer  bokkay  ?"  said  Dan,  regarding  the  tobacco 
papers  with  a  look  of  contempt.  "  ^\liy  don't  you  guv 
her  good,  live  flowers  ?" 

"  'Kase  I  can't  git  'em,  nigger,  dat's  de  reason,"  quoth 


PORT  EVELYN. 


375 


Orion.  He  rolled  up  the  i^apers  top^etlier  so  as  to  pre- 
sent a  variegated  effulgence  at  the  top,  and  secured  them 
by  a  pin.  As  he  held  it  up  admiringly,  Dan  reached  over 
and  struck  at  the  head  of  it. 

"Now,  teU  you  what  'tis,  nigger,  ef  ye  do  dat  agin' 
I'll  hit  you  long  side  ob  yer  head."  Dan  instantly  made 
a  second  dash  at  the  bouquet,  and  Orion  retorted  by 
throwing  down  the  board  of  coffee  fi'om  the  window- 
sill.  A  general  scuffle  ensued,  and  the  other  negroes 
came  about  in  crowds  to  look  on,  setting  on  the  combat- 
ants by  cheers  and  encouraging  plaudits.  The  uproar 
soon  grew  considerable,  the  combatants  yelled  at  the  top 
of  their  voices,  and  I  was  becoming  quite  alarmed  at  the 
violence  of  the  scene,  when  a  voice  was  raised  to  quell  it. 
"  What's  going  on,  down  there  ?"  Chives  had  come  out 
on  the  balcony  opposite  me,  paper  in  one  hand,  and  eye- 
glasses in  the  other.  He  had  to  pound  on  the  balustrade 
before  he  could  call  attention.  Exclamations  of  "  dar's 
de  guv'nor !"  instantly  quelled  the  disturbance.  Several 
voices  volunteered  explanations. 

•'Couple  of  Cunnel  Berkley's  niggers  got  a-fightin' 
down  here,  massa." 

"  Tie  them  up,  then,"  said  Chives.  "  Tie  them  both  up 
with  the  same  rope.  Don't  let  me  hear  such  a  de^ihsh 
noise  again." 

These  orders  were  executed  with  high  glee  by  the  ne- 
groes in  the  basement.  Dan  was  soon  secured  to  one 
window,  and  Orion  to  the  other.  This  arrangement  sep- 
arated them  only  physically;  a  war  of  words  soon  com- 
menced, and  was  carried  on  with  such  vehemence  that 
Orion  was  finally  removed  to  the  outside  of  the  building, 
and  tied  up  just  outside  of  the  trial-chamber,  of  which 
change  I  became  cognizant  by  seeing  him  l.^-ing  asleep 
in  the  battered  piano-case,  at  which  the  horses  had  just 
been  fed. 


376  RENSHAWE. 

Captain  'V\'Tiipplestaff  soon  joined  me  on  the  piazza 
with  a  beverage  in  a  tin  cup,  which  he  offered  to  me  as  a 
"  gwass  of  egg-nogg."  I  declined,  and  the  officer  placed 
it  on  the  balustrade,  and  sat  down  to  sip  it  at  his  leisure. 

"  I  thought  you  might  have  come  to  announce  my  sen- 
tence, Captain  ^Tiipple staff,"  said  I. 

"  Don't  know  what  it  is  yet,"  rephed  the  young  man. 
"  I'm  exceedingly  sawy  for  you.  Miss  Wenshawe.  I  sym- 
pathize with  you  pwofoundly,  and  indeed  I  told  them  up 
staiahs  that  I  bewieved  evewy  woahd  you  said." 

"  It  was  Tery  kind  in  you.  Captain  Whipplestaff,  to  de- 
fend me,  especially  as  I  know  Captain  Walby  is  so  bitter 
against  me  as  to  overrule  all  that  can  be  said  in  my 
favor." 

"  Walby  is  not  so  bittah  as  Berkley,  ]\liss  Wenshawe. 
I  never  knew  Berkley  so  seveah  on  a  thing  in  my  wife. 
He  bewieves  evewything  against  you  now,  and  he  will 
nevah  get  ovah  it — nevah.  I  would  not  tell  you  all  he 
said;  it  wouldn't  be  pweasant.  He  said  I  made  an  ath 
of  myself,  when  I  told  him  I  bewieved  you.  He's  busy 
now  about  the  expwosion." 

"  ^Tiat  explosion  ?" 

"  Going  to  bwow  up  this  house." 

"This  house!"  I  started  so  violently  as  to  send  the 
tin  cup  and  its  contents  quite  over  the  balcony. 

"Deah  me,  ]\liss  Wenshawe;  spilt  all  my  egg-nogg," 
said  he.     "  What  is  the  mattah  ?" 

"  Why,  you  say  the  house  is  to  be  blown  up." 

"  So  it  is,  but  not  till  after  bweakfast.  It's  too  bad 
you  can't  take  an  announcement  quietly.  Theah's  not 
anothah  egg  in  the  estabwishment." 

I  apologized  for  the  accident,  and  demanded  the  reason 
for  the  ex]^)losion. 

"  I  don't  know.  But  you  shouldn't  say  expwosion  so 
woud.     We  don't  want  it  to  get  a  wound  the  house.    The 


PORT  EVELFN.  877 

pooah  cweatuahs  might  as  well  enjoy  tlieiali  wepast  in 
twanquillity." 

"Why!"  I  exclaimed,  "I  hope  Colonel  Berkley  does 
not  intend  to  destroy  the  people  with  the  house  !  " 

"Why,  of  cawth  not;  but  you  see  if  it's  told  wiglit 
away,  theah'll  be  twemendous  confusion.  I  expect  to  see 
you  all  packed  up,  with  your  hat  on,  sitting  out  on  the 
hills  thwee  houahs  bifoah  we  have  stirred." 

Comparative  quiet  ensued  during  the  breakfast  hour. 
I  was  not  sorry  at  the  prospect  of  removal,  though  where 
we  were  to  go  next,  I  had  no  idea.  Perhaps  that  night 
would  see  me  farther  away  from  home,  the  goal  I  longed 
so  earnestly  to  reach.  I  had  no  doubt  that  my  parole 
would  be  recalled  shortly,  and  I  placed  again  under  guard; 
but  at  all  events  it  was  my  place  now  to  be  a  passive  ac- 
tor, and  await,  in  all  the  calmness  I  was  mistress  of,  the 
development  of  the  mystery  always  surrounding  the  "next 
thing." 

Something  was  in  motion  on  the  far  plains  south  of 
Fort  Evelyn,  and  by  the  excitement  produced  by  the  dis- 
covery, I  soon  learned  that  soldiers  were  approaching,  for 
in  the  cloud  of  dust  my  unpractised  eyes  could  not  have 
distinguished  by  what  it  was  raised.  A  rash,  wild  hope 
had  risen  at  first,  that  it  might  be  the  Union  troops  from 
Massanoonga,  after  a  successful  circumvention  of  the  bar- 
riers presented  by  river  and  land,  and  that  rescue  was  at 
hand  for  me,  and  capture  for  my  enemies.  As  the  ban- 
ners revealed  themselves,  however,  I  saw  that  this  hope 
was  groundless,  and  the  insignia  of  the  Confederate 
States  was  hailed  from  the  mansion  by  shouts  of  triumph 
resounding  through  its  solid  arches.  With  unspeakable 
chaorin,  I  watched  them  come,  but  not  another  clouded 
brow  was  visible  in  the  expectant  crowd  gathered  below 
the  flag  that  floated  over  the  steps  of  the  building. 

That  next  hour  was  a  busy  one.     More  wagons  and 


378  RENSHAWE. 

carts  had  been  brought  by  the  regiment,  and  they  were 
loaded  as  fast  as  hands  could  accomplish  it  with  kegs 
and  cannon  balls,  and  piles  of  musketry,  carried  from  the 
building. 

At  twelve  o'clock,  a  blast  fi'om  a  trumpet  gave  the 
signal  for  all  that  was  alive  to  quit  the  courtyard.  The 
wagons  and  gun-carriages  formed  a  long  line  moving  on 
the  southward  road;  a  crowd  of  negroes  following,  and 
the  gates  lined  T\dth  a  steady  out-coming  of  the  soldiers. 

"  Are  you  not  going  to  lead  off  the  horses  belonging  to 
the  staff?"  asked  Mrs.  Deschapples  of  Whipplestaff. 

"  Oh,  no — those  hawses  won't  feah  the  noise.  I've  seen 
cannon  balls  fiahed  cwose  to  theah  eahs,  and  they  never 
twembled  a  haiah." 

"  I  wish  they'd  set  it  oft'  soon,"  said  one  of  the  officers. 
"I  don't  care  to  stand  here  all  day,  just  for  the  sake  of 
seeing  the  fun." 

Intimations  were  given  that  the  "  fun"  was  not  to  be 
longer  delayed.  The  hills  enveloped  in  smoke,  presented 
a  backgi'ound  to  the  North,  and  a  dead  calm  reigned  on 
the  face  of  the  crowd,  all  collected  on  the  knoll. 

"  No  one  in  the  house  ?"  asked  the  governor. 

"  No  sir,"  replied  a  young  officer,  the  last  to  quit  the 
building,  "we  have  just  been  through  it." 

"  Niggers  aU  out  ?" 

"  Yes  sir." 

"It's  aU  right,  eh  Berkley  ?" 

Berkley  ran  his  eye  over  the  company.  "Where's 
Orion?" 

"  Gone  down  with  the  cannons,"  said  Captain  Whipple- 
staff;  "I  saw  him  with  all  the  niggers." 

"  And  Dan  ?" 

Dan  presented  himself  among  the  crowd. 

"  Light  the  fuse,"  said  Chives. 

The  fuse  divided  in  the  middle  of  the  court-yard  into 


PORT  EVELYN.  879 

three  forks,  running  under  the  hall  and  the  east  and  west 
wings  of  the  building.  Several  sheafs  of  straw  had  been 
made  ready  to  conduct  the  flames.  Two  soldiers  went 
up  and  lit  the  pile  lying  by  the  fallen  gates. 

Safe  as  was  the  distance,  there  was  a  general  move- 
ment a  little  farther  back  on  the  knoll.  Not  one  of  the 
officers  had  mounted.  Trembling  so  that  I  could  scarcely 
stand,  I  looked  up  at  the  arches  and  towers  of  that  old 
stone  house — it  would  be  a  fearful  shock — a  deafening 
explosion;  falling  on  ears,  and  jarring  windows  miles  and 
miles  away. 

Good  Heavens !  there  was  life  still  about  the  doomed 
building  !  The  piano-case  moved,  and  a  great,  stalwart 
negro  rose  sleepily  therefi'om.  Orion!  Exclamations 
of  horror  rose  on  the  hill. 

"  Orion,"  called  Berkley,  "  come  away,  for  God's  sake  ! 
You'll  be  blown  sky-high  !" 

"  He's  tied  !  he's  tied  !"  echoed  from  several  voices. 

Orion  looked  at  the  flame  that  ran  across  the  court- 
yard, and  took  in  the  situation.  He  struggled  fearfully 
with  the  ropes,  rushing  to  their  full  length,  throwing 
himself  around  till  they  wound  about  him  like  an  ana- 
conda's coil,  but  they  would  not  break.  The  muscles  on 
his  neck  swelled  amid  his  frantic  plunges,  blood  gushed 
from  his  nose  and  mouth,  and  the  sweat  streamed  from 
his  face.  Those  cords  were  like  cables.  The  flame  had 
disappeared  within  two  doors  of  the  building,  and  was 
leaping  upon  the  threshold  of  a  third  ! 

"  Hold  my  horse,  Dan,"  said  Berkley. 

I  turned  away  from  the  awful  sight.  Redoubled  cries 
ascended;  the  governor's  voice  rang  out,  " Oh,  my  God! 
you  have  killed  yourself!     What  are  you  doing?" 

Was  it  all  a  hideous  dream,  and  I  just  awaking  ?  No  ; 
there  stood  the  house,  there  the  flame  ;  and  Colonel 
Berkley  had  gone  across  the  court-yard,  and  was  severing, 


380  RENSHAWE. 

one  by  one,  with  his  sword,  the  ropes  that  bound  the 
negro  to  the  house.  Smoke  was  issuing  already  from  the 
windows  ;  it  came  denser  and  denser. 

"  Take  me  away  from  this,  Walby,"  groaned  Chives  ; 
"  lead  me  away  ;  I  cannot  stand  it." 

The  negi'o  was  loosed,  but  he  clung  to  Berkley's  waist 
with  a  frenzied  grasp.  I  saw  the  sword  hfted  above  his 
head,  accompanied  by  some  indistinguishable  threat. 

"  Kill  him !"  called  Chives  ;  "  kill  him,  and  come  away !" 

A  tremendous  ex^olosion  shook  the  earth,  and  filled 
the  air  with  flying  missiles.  The  western  wing  of  the 
building  lay  crashing  and  tumbling  in  its  own  ruin.  As 
the  smoke  rolled  away,  Berkley  and  Orion  issued  together 
from  its  cloudy  columns.  As  they  gained  the  hill  where 
our  party  stood,  a  second  and  a  third  explosion  racked 
the  earth,  and  filled  the  arching  dome  above  with  its 
echoes.  The  building  shook,  tottered,  fell,  amid  another 
rush  of  smoke  and  dust,  and  the  coui't-yard  was  covered 
with  a  mass  of  fallen  arches,  broken  colimms,  and  rolling 
stones — all  a  blazing  ruin,  exhaling  a  mephitic  steam. 

"  Now,  then,"  s;iid  Chives,  "  the  sooner  we  get  off  fr'om 
this  place  the  better.     Dan,  bring  up  the  horses." 

Nearly  all  the  officers  had  mounted  ;  one  afrer  another 
they  had  ridden  leisurely  away.  I  saw  ^Ii's.  Deschapples 
also  on  horseback,  moving  off  with  the  rest.  It  was 
getting  quite  distressing.  I  was  still  on  parole,  of  course; 
but  how  could  I  keep  it  if  I  had  no  horse  ?  A  small  knot 
of  gentlemen  were  still  on  the  knoll.  I  called  to  Dan, 
who  was  passing,  and  bade  him  ask  Colonel  Berkley  if  he 
had  forgotten  !Miss  Eenshawe. 

Dan  came  back  with  the  report  that  his  master  had 
said  no,  and  added  the  stai'thng  information  that  the 
gentlemen  were  talking  about  me.  Dan  led  up  the  last 
pair  of  horses  to  the  knoll  where  they  stood,  but  no  one 
moved.     It  was  an  earnest  consultation.     My  heart  grew 


rORT    EVELYN.  381 

sick  as  I  watched  them.  Berkley  at  last  detached  him- 
self from  the  group,  and  came  across  the  ground  to  me. 
I  trembled  in  view  of  the  coming  announcement,  and  as 
Berkley  reached  me,  said  a  Httle  hastily  to  ward  it  off : 

"I  have  been  waiting  for  the  horse." 

"What  horse?" 

"  Am  I  expected  to  follow  this  procession  on  foot  ?" 

Berkley  had  taken  out  a  black  pocket-book,  and  was  too 
busy  looking  through  it  to  heed  the  question.  He  took 
out  and  unfolded  a  paper.  It  was  the  certificate  of  my 
supposed  espionage. 

"  Was  my  sentence  decided  on  by  you  and  your  fellow 
judges  ?"  I  asked,  with  some  bitter  feelings  at  my  heart. 

"  Yes,"  said  Berkley  ;  "  it  relieves  me  of  the  charge  of 
your  safety,  which  has  been  on  my  conscience  for  the 
last  two  or  three  days.  I  return  you  this  paper,  handed 
me  yesterday  by  the  governor.     You  are  at  liberty." 

"At  hberty!"  said  I,  astonished  beyond  measure  at 
this,  the  very  last  announcement  for  which  my  soul  had 
been  prepared.     "  By  whose  authority  ?" 

"By  mine." 

He  offered  the  paper,  but  I  did  not  take  it  yet. 

"  Then  you  do  believe  me  innocent,"  said  I.  "  Do  all 
the  gentlemen  coincide  in  that  opinion  ?" 

"  I  advise  you  to  lose  no  time  in  gathering  opinions,"  said 
the  colonel,  in  a  distant  tone,  that  cut  me  to  the  very  soul. 

Captain  Whipi)lestaff  had  not  exaggerated. 

"Colonel  Berkley,"  said  I,  in  a  faltering  voice,  "  if  you 
or  those  gentlemen  think  I  could  do  them  any  injui-y, 
they  are  greatly  mistaken." 

"  We  don't  think  anything  about  it,"  said  Berkley  ;  "we 
know  that  you  have  already  done  us  all  the  injuiy  that 
lay  in  your  power." 

"  Colonel  Berkley,"  I  persisted,  earnestly,  "  do  you  not 
feel  in  your  heart  that  this  judgment  is  too  severe?    Are 


382  RENSHAWE. 

you  not  sensible  that  circumstances  sometimes  weigh 
strongly  against  the  innocent  ?  May  not  this  be  one  of 
those  cases  ?  and  do  you  give  me  my  liberty,"  I  went  on, 
stepjDing  eagerly  forward,  "  thinking  me  so  mean  and 
unscmpulous  as  to  break  a  parole  ?  I  did  not,  and  I 
am  no  spy.  Only  say  you  beheve  me,  Colonel  Berkley, 
and  no  words  will  express  my  gratitude." 

Berkley  drew  in  his  shoulders  and  elevated  his  eye- 
brows— both  movements  so  sKght  as  to  be  hardly  per- 
cei^tible.  I  was  answered.  He  added  \dth.  a  quickness 
of  tone  that  sufficiently  indicated  his  impatience  : 

"  Here  is  this  paper,  ]\Iiss  Eenshawe.  If  I  can  serve 
you  in  any  other  way,  you  have  only  to  say  so." 

I  crushed  the  paper  in  my  hands,  and  threw  it  on  the 
gi'ound. 

"  The  only  way  in  which  you  can  serve  me  now,"  I 
said,  "  is  to  forget  my  existence  as  soon  as  possible.  I 
asked  for  your  faith  and  you  refused  it.  Xow  I  ask  not 
even  justice.     You  shall  never  see  my  face  again." 

"  Amen  !"  said  Berkley,  hastily. 

There  was  a  deferential  bow,  to  which  I  did  not  respond, 
by  word  or  movement,  and  he  walked  off  to  join  the 
gToup  that  were  slowly  moving  down  the  road. 

The  sound  of  wheels  and  hoofs  from  the  retreating 
caravan  had  quite  died  away  ;  the  last  group  had  disap- 
peared among  the  trees,  when  Orion  came  up  with  one 
of  the  horses.  His  master  had  sent  down  that  horse  for 
i\liss  Eenshawe. 

"  Take  him  back,"  said  I. 

The  answer  was  too  imperious  to  be  disputed.  Orion 
got  on  the  horse  and  galloped  off. 

People  fi'om  the  village  were  coming  up  to  gaze  at  the 
ruin,  and  to  avoid  scrutinizing  eyes,  I  went  farther  along 
the  highway,  and  sat  down  at  a  well  by  the  roadside. 
To  the  southward  lay  the  desolated  country;  before  me 


POET  EVELYN.  388 

the  blasted  ruin,  and  beyond,  the  dreary  waste  of  smoky 
mountains. 

An  hour  had  passed,  and  I  was  engrossed  with  my 
own  gloomy  thoughts,  watching  the  crowds  that  gathered 
round  the  fallen  house,  when  a  sound  of  hoofs  attracted 
my  attention. "  Captain  "Whipplestaff  was  coming  up  on 
horseback,  conducting  a  second  charger  by  the  bridle. 

"  'Miss  Wenshawe,"  said  he,  "  Colonel  Berkley  has 
sent  me  down  with  this  hawse  to  you,  and  he  weally  in- 
sists that  you  won't  we  fuse  " 

"  I  can  accept  no  favor  at  Colonel  Berkley's  hand8,"said  I. 

"  Well,  I  must  say,  youah  extwemely  foohsh,"  said  the 
captain.     "He's  the  best  fwend  you  have." 

"Captain  Whipplestaff,  you  yourself  told  me  that 
Colonel  Berkley  was  my  enemy,  and  his  conduct  has  jus- 
tified it." 

"I  did  not  say  he  was  youah  enemy.  I  said  he 
bewieved  you  weah  his;  and  as  for  what  you  say  of  his 
conduct,  you  must  weally  be  a  little  just  to  the  colonel. 
Don't  you  know  he  might  be  cawtmahtialed  and  shot 
for  letting  you  go  this  mawning." 

"  Impossible." 

"  Certainly.  You  don't  suppose  it's  the  custom  heah, 
do  you,  to  turn  spies  and  pwisoners  woose  on  the 
countwy.  We  all  wemonstwated  ;  the  govahnah  and 
Walby  said  they'd  put  you  on  a  hawse  with  a  guahd 
each  side  of  you,  and  send  you  to  Wichmond.  But  the 
colonel  was  obstinate.  Upon  my  soul,  Miss  Wenshawe, 
as  much  as  I  sympathize  with  you,  I  would  not  ventuah 
to  do  as  the  colonel  has.  The  govahnah  told  him  he 
would  wepent  it,  and  the  colonel  said  he  wished  he  weah 
as  suah  of  being  a  genewal  as  that  you  would  nevah  in- 
juah  us  again." 

"Indeed,"  said  I,  quite  amazed.     "But  he  does  think 
I  have  injured  you." 


884  EENSHAWE. 

"  Oh,  yes,  lie  thinks  that — he's  unmoved  as  a  gwanite 
Tvock  about  that.     Now  then  will  you  take  this  hawse  ?" 

"  No,  Captain  Whipplestaff;  but  tell  Colonel  Berkley  I 
am  very  gi-ateful  for  his  kindness  to  me." 

Whipplestaff  expressed  his  regret  at  leaving  me  iu 
such  a  forloi*ti  and  unprotected  situation,  and  rode  off. 

I  sank  do^Ti  unspeakably  miserable.  What  did  it 
matter  to  me  that  I  had  been  set  free  bodily,  when  I  was 
held  in  mental  bondage  ? 

A  hand  was  laid  on  my  arm;  I  looked  up  and  saw 
Mrs.  Hervey. 

"  Have  you  nowhere  to  go,  IVIiss  Renshawe  ?" 

"Nowhere  on  the  face  of  the  earth." 

"  I  see  you  have  refused  theii'  aid ;  perhaps  you  will 
accept  mine?  My  horses  and  servant  are  below  at  the 
river,  and  if  you  will  go  with  me  to  Massanoonga  you 
shall  be  a  welcome  guest." 

I  had  no  words  in  which  to  thank  her,  and  was  only 
too  glad  to  follow. 


THE    END     OF    RENSHAWE. 


IN  PRESS— A  continuation  of  this  Story,  entitled  Delawaee. 


RARE  BOOK 
COLLECTION 


THE  LIBRARY  OF  THE 

UNIVERSITY  OF 

NORTH  CAROLINA 

AT 

CHAPEL  HILL 

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